Los Duendes: It’s My Story and I’m Sticking, Really Sticking, To It
Whose house this is I cannot think.
Encrusted dishes jam the sink.
Tomatoes rot inside the fridge
And curdled milk I dare not drink.
I swear I cleaned house yesterday
I folded clothes, put them away.
I vacuumed, mopped and dusted, too.
Who caused this mess I cannot say.
But I can guess. I think I know.
The ones who smash and drip and throw.
The ones who trash my tidy work.
The problem comes from down below.
Beneath my house two gremlins dwell.
They live to clutter, stink, and smell,
So sneak inside each time I leave,
Transform my scrubbed home into Hell.
They think that I can’t stop their tricks,
Those awful, nasty, dirty, pricks.
I know exactly what to do,
To bring about an awesome fix.
I’ll leave this house—perhaps a week?
The end of that and things should reek.
Let them simmer in their stew,
And think about what they should do.
I predict they’ll find a broom, a mop
And these shenanigans will stop.
They’ll wash and scrub without a moan.
The house will gleam when I come home.
Hahaha, I have their cousins live in Clearlake Oaks!!
Hahaha!
Now that was very fun!!!!
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