Momma made me do my laundry.
It’s my boring, cheerless work.
I’ve been told to wash and fold it
and it’s driving me berserk.
Don’t know how to start the washer.
Don’t know when the clothes are done.
Only know that doing laundry
doesn’t seem to be much fun.
Don’t know how to separate them.
Don’t know where detergent goes.
Didn’t realize the details
that go into washing clothes.
Momma knew what she was doing
when she reassigned this chore.
I regret not saying “Thank you”
for the loads she’d done before.
Wish these piles of wash would vanish
but it seems they’re here to stay.
Better learn to love this labor
or go naked every day.