Dirty Laundry

Dirty Laundry everywhere. Haven’t been able to keep up. Jack and Fiona, diaper blow outs, four days, change their cloths. Hate the piles everywhere. Wash, Fold, Put Away, Sort, Give Away, Buy, Too Big, Too Small, Too Much, Too Many. Little Tikes, V-Tech. Balls and Bottles. On the floor, cheerios, banana, drops of milk, crust of sweet potatoes, the dirty tray with burnt sweet potato, more dishes in the sink. Time to purge. The kitchen counter is grimy, it makes me irritated. A housewife has a right to vent. “How can I make you happy?” My Mantra. As they whine now, “What in the world is wrong with you guys?” I say. “What, I don’t understand?” Ok, it is the plastic container of Mentos Jack got, Fiona wants. Take it away from both babies, both cry, both get over it. They need a few cuddles, now they are playing. Sun shining, a beautiful Sunday. Not scared of getting sick anymore, time to get out of here. Time to go on some adventures, Three bandits. The Bandits don’t want me to write today. Plop, cry. The dead giveaway of a fake fall.

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About Dirty Laundry Blog

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist