| Our Dad was on a mission to get the housework done He said he’d do a proper job… …much better than our Mum He chose his weapons wisely Some Cif and Toilet Duck They’d come in very handy for a one man war on muck He fought the fusty front room with a cloud of scented spray And ran around in just his vest and yelled, “Yippee Ki Yay!” |  |
He Windolened the mirror
He told it, “I’ll be back…”
And, just for fun, he lobbed in
a grenade of Shake ’n’ Vac
Then deftly twirled the toilet brush
like Luke with his light sabre
(The bathroom was the Death Star
and the toilet was Darth Vader)
Dad said, “I’ll clean the oven then
before I make the beds”
Us kids all gasped in disbelief
and sadly shook our heads
The oven was a fearsome foe
all caked in grease and grime
It hadn’t seen a Brillo Pad
since 1999
And other horrors lurked inside
This monster liked to boast
of charcoal black detritus
from a thousand Sunday roasts
Dad grabbed the Mr Muscle…
it was no idle threat
“Stand back!” he yelled, “I’m goin’ in…
you ain’t seen nothin’ yet”
He scrubbed and rinsed and polished
The oven stood and took it
Dad scratched his head and said,
“I’m gonna need a bigger bucket”
He called in reinforcements:
Domestos, Dettol, Flash
And after – oh – an hour or four,
the enemy was smashed!
By now Dad was exhausted
his hands were red and raw
When Mum came back he’d crumpled
in a heap upon the floor
“Not bad,” said Mum (she looked impressed)
but Dad was fast asleep
He didn’t hear her when she said,
“Same time again next week?”
Poem © 2017 Jo Dearden
Image © 2017 Nick Butterworth
He told it, “I’ll be back…”
And, just for fun, he lobbed in
a grenade of Shake ’n’ Vac
Then deftly twirled the toilet brush
like Luke with his light sabre
(The bathroom was the Death Star
and the toilet was Darth Vader)
Dad said, “I’ll clean the oven then
before I make the beds”
Us kids all gasped in disbelief
and sadly shook our heads
The oven was a fearsome foe
all caked in grease and grime
It hadn’t seen a Brillo Pad
since 1999
And other horrors lurked inside
This monster liked to boast
of charcoal black detritus
from a thousand Sunday roasts
Dad grabbed the Mr Muscle…
it was no idle threat
“Stand back!” he yelled, “I’m goin’ in…
you ain’t seen nothin’ yet”
He scrubbed and rinsed and polished
The oven stood and took it
Dad scratched his head and said,
“I’m gonna need a bigger bucket”
He called in reinforcements:
Domestos, Dettol, Flash
And after – oh – an hour or four,
the enemy was smashed!
By now Dad was exhausted
his hands were red and raw
When Mum came back he’d crumpled
in a heap upon the floor
“Not bad,” said Mum (she looked impressed)
but Dad was fast asleep
He didn’t hear her when she said,
“Same time again next week?”
Poem © 2017 Jo Dearden
Image © 2017 Nick Butterworth
Illustration © 2017 Nick Butterworth
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