Another dinner done.
The grey, black and white bowls on the table are now empty
Save for a few cooked grains of rice and smears of vegetable discarded
Like the kids’ clothes all over the floors of their bedrooms.
I could write a poem about these bowls, I say.
You can call it: This is the moral of my life, says daughter.
Hahaha, at age 13 she gets it:
The cooking takes at least an hour and all my hard work
Vanishes in less than 10 minutes.
The moral of my life.
Boo – haha.
Again and again plates gather
From drawer, to table, to rinsing, to dishwasher.
Jigsaw of stacking shapes attracted like to like
Look, this is the way!
If they go any other way, they don’t fit properly
And if you can’t get them all in, Beware!
You’ll have to wash those ones yourself
In extra time.
Each day there is a cleansing process.
And always there are the dishes that don’t fit
Or are not suitable for the machine.
But my hands are resistant to dishwashing liquid
Understandably
Flaking.
How much can they take?
And my mind?
– plus God and family there’s the dog, house, writing, church, clients
all the paperwork teetering as it waits for me to work –
My mind and skin fight back and begin to peel off
So my darling husband does the dishes to save my hands, for love.
Or we could get the kids to do them
Good idea! Do it now, or no phones.
And so they do, with fighting
– It’s not my turn to wash. I will not wash. –
And also singing.
Constant Korean Pop videos
– Please can we listen to something else? –
As the dishes which should take 10 minutes
Take at least an hour every night and often
After an hour we return to check the kitchen and find
Daughters sitting around the messy table or dancing
Everything is the same
Nothing is done
And that, my daughters, is the power of the internet.
It may take 2 more hours, but there’s help now, can we rest? Oh no
My man, co-labourer, filled the washing machine this morning
and washed some clothes and now it’s late. Oh no
The clothes will stink
The stink will never come out
And my man has a very sensitive nose
It sniffs out anything usual
and sometimes, no need for words
it flares when expectations have not been met.
Was he waiting
For me to hang the clothes out?
Of course.
And I forgot. And then I remembered. And then I forgot again
Because I work from home and I have a million other things to do in my day.
Or maybe just a hundred.
What did my accountant say today? Maybe you should form another company
It would protect your interests.
But doesn’t he know? I already have my own good company
And I have enough company to be getting on with.
This is an actual moral of this, my lovely life:
You can do everything. But not at the same time.
Not on this same day.