I feel that they take me for granted,
Doing things that they can do their selves,
One minute bossy and rude, and mean,
The next, telling me they love me.
I sometimes feel like the maid of the house,
Doing jobs and watching them play,
Telling me that I\'m unhelpful, and sassy,
As then going back to the computer in bed.
I never do argue or talk back,
As much as I would rather have done,
Yet you still make me do the chores and the work,
And go back to doing nothing at all.
I may grumble and whine it\'s unfair, in my head,
But you just put loads more stuff on,
You may cook and put the laundry in,
But I fold and the dishwasher is now my close friend.
Yes, you may have work and an excuse,
But there is no excuse for everything,
You may say you love me, and kiss me, and hug me,
But I still feel taken for granted.