Flash Poet

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Home Maker

Man, my guys keep insulting my home maker skills

And it’s kinda pissing me off something fierce
Like wtf, this is what I’ve been doing for
More than a solid decade, of course I know what I’m doing

When I volunteer to cook for more than just myself
Immediately looks of concern and skittish behavior arise
No one wants to try it and they all fake not having an appetite
It may not be a freaking phenomenon, but at least it has a good flavor

Laundry piles up constantly and all at once with such a big house hold
Whispers of incompetence slip from passing lips before I can start
With hour and a half intervals before it’s time to switch and fold it
But I do keep it going, loads right after another until it’s done

I’m not a big fan of doing all the chores since it will become an unwelcomed burden of habit
But when it’s my turn for the kitchen clean up
I make damn sure that its swept and wiped down
Cleaning the dishes faster than you see me do anything else, like a ninja

I really don’t like being challenged in my domain
Since I was raised by a well groomed housewife who surpassed any and all
I can hang with my dudes and still mop the floor with any PTSA mom in the house
And guess what? I’m a boss in training, all that’s left is to rise to each occasion

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