why is it always me
He got stuck washing the dishes in the kitchen again.
The dirty cups and slimy saucers stacked up to his chin.
The plates were crusty and filthy, they did not fit in the sink.
The dishwasher appliance was worthless, it had gone on the brink.
Why is it always me? He asked his family.
Girls don’t do dishes, said his baby Heidi.
It’s a man’s job, you know that, his oldest daughter said.
His wife wondered why he could not get this through his thick head.
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