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Soap Suds

In by Fannie on January 31, 2011 at 11:20 pm

Her hands were firmly pressed against the sink rim as her arms braced her body, sagging, between them.  She stared uncomprehendingly at the pile of precariously stacked dirty dishes inches away.

She’d had enough.  There had been too many “last straws” in the haze known as “recent.”  First it was the mail, the forgotten groceries, the unnoticed dirt and grime.  The endless dishes that he never touched.  The wailing baby.

“Will you please get her” she hoped with an exhausted sigh.

Newborn on hip and snot-covered two year old clinging to her jeans, she found a crusty sponge and began.

 

 

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