Washing Up

Washing up My hand trembles as I think of what I must do I have a washing up bowl full of pots and pans to clean it’s the truth A site so horrid that the devil’s own machinations could not possibly think this through The flannel has all bean juice on it and there’s no fairy liquid for me to use This is the seventh circle of hell I think then I look into the cupboard and the sink is leaking causing chaos and dripping gravy stew You have to man up boy for one day the men of the village will talk of the brave one that washed up that Sunday in 1982 I cleaned those pots and pans till you could see your face in them and the knives and forks and spoons but then I saw the roasting tin and I fainted but I soon came too This calls for the angle grinder that my dad said “one day you’ll use this” he was not wrong and now I have the shiniest roasting tin in Atherton and in the winter a brilliant sledge woohoo