My Husband says ‘chill’ but there’s so much to do
I must wash, cook and hoover – and unblock the loo
My little boy moans that I never sit down
So I cuddle him tightly and iron out his frown

Early morning is fraught with breakfast, lunch and teeth
And ignoring the gurgling tummy beneath
A cup of tea and a quick relax
Before washing and ironing and filling out the tax

I set up my son with colouring in
I walk back and forth forgetting where I’ve been
I race around the house in a whirlwind of cleaning
I dust every surface until it is beaming.

I study gourmet cookbooks for delicious cuisine
I master new concepts and ways to wean
Washed, pressed and gleaming I say ‘bye’ to the kin
I then applaud myself on what a good housewife I’ve bin’

Of course at this stage I awake from my daydream and shiver
My ideals are shattered and my lips start to quiver
I am not from Stepford, I am fraught with flaws
I have weeds in my garden and handprints on doors

I cook stuff from the freezer and still burn the toast
I thwart housework for learning; I rarely cook roast
Alas I am normal with stains, dust and all
But in my pigsty I am having a ball!