The days wind down before the Winter Break.
I don’t know how much more of this I’ll take
Before I go insane. There’s work to be done,
(As there always is) before there’s fun.
The “Honey-Do” list, it groweth apace.
There’s barely time to shit, or feed my face.
Schlep furniture around, down and up the stairs.
Mattresses, computer monitors, and chairs.
Clean up the debris, get rid of all the piles.
Years of paperwork, stacked for (seeming) miles.
Thank Gawd there’s a basement, somewhere I can drag
All the shit, the garbage, and the slag.
You’d think it was New Orleans, with all this detritus.
I haul it out with all my main and mightus.
Unpacking boxes in my ground-floor office,
So hurried, there is no time to drink coffice.
Why all this frantic bustling, without end?
In just a couple days, the mobs descend.
The daughters, coming home from out of town.
(It’s very nice of them to come aroun’.)
And then there’s Morris William and his bride,
Driving in from Fort Worth’s northern side.
Along with them, there’ll be our nephew William,
His Auntie SWMBO will huggim ’til she killiam.
Upon her arrival, expected to be soon,
The Mistress of Sarcasm won’t recognize her room.
And Elder Daughter will likely give a scream:
“What the hell is this? My bedroom’s clean!”
If not for Family Visits now and again,
My Living Quarters might look like a pigpen.
All this redecorating! It seems to me,
It’s like taking a broom to sweep back the sea.
For in a happy home, disorder rules.
The cats shed fur and the baby drools.
If Perfect Cleanliness to you seems fantastic,
Cover all of your crap in a Shroud of Plastic.
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