Where Is My Shirt? :Laundry and basically all the household work for ages have been done by women. Here is a poem on similar lines :

“Where is my shirt?”, squealed he.
“Wait! I don’t have hands three!”
She frantically searched his shirt,
Thinking of the recipe of a dessert.

The next moment hell broke loose,
His shirt was in the laundry with stains of orange juice.
Face red in anger she asked,”You did not do the laundry?”
“Why would I ? It isn’t for me!”

All the shirts soiled and stinking,
With a week’s break, what was she thinking?
She felt like grabbing that bottle of wine and drinking!
And there he was just standing and blinking.

“I have to go to the office, lady” he reminded,
with frustration,disappointment and anger she was blinded.
She threw the soiled laundry on his face,
and ran to her room like she was running a race.

He stood there shocked,
and the room from inside she had locked.
“I am sorry but what is wrong.” he asked.
“Nothing honey, this week on and forever we do things together.” she said.
“But I don’t do laundry.” he said blinking his puppy eyes.
“We will do it together.” she smiled like a saint wise.

And It is Day 18 of UBC!


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