Domestic Goddess

she finished up the last of her now-cold coffee, folded away the morning paper, and surveyed the scene around her with a critical eye.

"... overflowing laundry basket to the washing machine, breakfast debris to the kitchen sink, dinky cars and trucks back into the toy tub..."

And with a wry twist to her lips admitted that today too was not the day she discovered her telekinetic powers. Or a Mary Poppinsy finger-snap technique.

Dragging the dirty clothes hamper across the room, she paused.

"No, don't eat that play-doh apple ... it's still play-doh. Things don't change into something they're not..."

And along the way she put on her new toy. And the ipod began to shuffle with her.

Her back straightened up. the baggy track pants felt just a tad snugger and lower on the hips; the warm sunlight on her shoulders made her faded vest feel fashionably so.

she shuffled her way through oasis and evanescence. through fleetwood mac and the goo goo dolls. through clearing the table and the living room too. with not quite a spring in her step, but a definite roll to the hips. since no-one was looking anyway.

except for a really a cute looking kid on the carpet playing his new game - putting toys back in the tub.


I don't want the world to see me
coz i don't think that they'd understand
when everythings made to be broken
i just want you to know who i am.