My Domestication.

Nothing to wash nothing to iron nothing even to boil,

As a lad I lived at home without any household toil.

Mum’s attention assured my youth proceeded without care;

This is how my life began - free of contact with cookware.

Cooking was a secret art for men just not relevant -

To be unmarried was frequently seen as deviant;

Therefore culinary skills were not required on my part;  

My wife would do the catering - bless her generous heart! 

Truth hit when I left home and had to cater for myself;  

With no wife to comfort me, I was clearly on the shelf…...!   

To boil an egg, cook some toast were slowly acquired skills,        

I just managed to feed myself without too many ills.  

Used crockery all soaked in the sink was a system since        

Needed plates were pulled from the bottom, given a quick rinse.   

Tried some porridge, cooked far too much, left the rest on the side; 

Filled with water the saucepan stood, need for action denied.  

The porridge just swelled, doubled, took on a life of its own,

Lava like it edged over the top, menace clearly shown.

This monster could grow and grow and finally push me out -

I should remove this porridge thing of that there was no doubt.

So I carved up the creeping blob, shoved it in some plastic,

Four bags filled saved me from something close to catastrophic.

I hauled them out to the bins in order to dump this mush

And hurried along past other flats in a furtive rush.

I hoped no doors would open and witness me on the way;

Not even anonymity could keep unease at bay -

If dismembering a body was actually my game   

Anxiety levels would have been very much the same.            

When I returned I got stuck in, tried to clean up the place; 

Thought I’d solved the problem but that wasn’t really the case. 

A mob of mice broke in next night (must have been them scratching!) 

Plainly a takeover they had spent some time in hatching.   

I cowered in my bed’s far corner overcome with fright;

Rodents on the rampage made it an extremely long night.

At morning’s light they vanished having ruined my larder; 

Clear up was a long job – finding breakfast even harder.   

Some spicy biscuits I found untouched, why I’ll never know,

Nothing else was left intact and all of it had to go.    

Mouse hole plugged, then cleaning made one more attack on the slime; 

Food was sealed in containers - some good lessons learnt that time. 

Now the washing up is completed promptly every night, 

Now attention to hygiene keeps me basically upright,    

Now things are neat and orderly with no wildlife in sight,  

Now household tasks are performed with energy and delight. 

Now believe the line above and you are naive alright!