Is This You?

I have a nice white shirt

But the starch hurts,

I’ll wash it again to

Get rid of the pain.

Now my pants are creased

Oh will I ever get peace?

My shoes are dusty,

And my drill is rusty.

Housework I do none.

I leave that to my mum.

Because I’m a boy I’ll

Just play with my toy.

By Rita Joel