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A LITTLE PAINT, A LITTLE TILE

A LITTLE PAINT, A LITTLE TILE

It began with a drip in the faucet Then the shower wall had a bubble The handyman tried to fix these things But the whole bathroom was in trouble.

My husband thought we had to do more Than get a plumber and a new sink The bedroom once a soft dusty rose Had become a not-so-soft, dirty pink.

So I’m about to have some work done Not on my body, neck, or face But on the walls and floors and ceiling In the back rooms of my place.

I’ll return to prose-y bloggin’ next week or in a very short while When the contractor stops making a mess

With scraping, spackling and tile.

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