Some days I feel as if I am the peasant girl who walks the rooms inside my very own house.
I tidy up after 3 boys without thanks.
I wash the clothes that previously hung upon their bodies.
I make the dinners that are rushed through too quickly.
I wash the dishes that fed them nourishment to continue their rough and tumble lives.
I read letters from school and work. Making notes on the calendar to signify the important days in their lives.
I make the beds that they lay their heads upon when the moon hangs high upon the dark sky.
I tidy and wash, fold and put away, read and shuffle, write and make notes, straighten and polish.
It makes my heart sad that I feel this way but right now I do.
Just the peasant girl.