If I get sick, who is going to
Put me to bed, under a pile of warm blankets
with my favourite books, a mug of tea
and a hot water bottle?
Squeeze me a lemon,
strain the juice carefully into the mug
(no seeds or pulp to irritate a scratchy throat)
add honey and fenugreek,
boil the kettle and pour the hot water?
Put a bendy straw in the mug
so I can sip my medicine lying down,
resting my aching, stuffy head?
Walk the dogs, feed the cats,
scoop the litter, cuddle the guinea pigs,
pick fresh greens for the rabbits?
Every morning, every night?
Appease the screaming child by untangling
the knotted thread of the yoyo
then wiping copious fluid
from her steaming face?
Feed the children nutritious hot meals,
not to mention tasty snacks
and special drinks
in just the right mug?
Every 20 minutes?
Go to work for me so I can
maintain the illusion
of a roof
over our heads?
Make me congee, jook, soups to nourish
and restore the strength I have lost
doing all these things?
Day in, day out?
Keep the peace
so I can forget the clock and just sleep
without having to worry
the kids will set the house (or one another) on fire?
No wonder mothers hardly ever get sick.
March 20, 2008