At first I thought it was a dream,

A fairy-tale, or so it seemed—

A thing that happens on TV,

To moms more glamorous than me,

The kind who wear designer dresses,

And never pony-tail their tresses.

Yet there I was in sweatpants blue,

Running loads of laundry through.

When beneath some underwear

A glimpse of plastic did appear—

The Bottom of the Hamper.

It took a moment to realize

The significance of this great surprise.

“It really does exist!” I said,

And touched my fingers to my head.  

Not a single sticky shirt remained,

Or dirty pair of pants, grass-stained.

All the socks were put away,

“There is nothing left to wash today!”

I basked, I gloated, I even cried.

When a child coming close I spied,

With both arms full of play clothes vile,

And on his face, a little smile.

“Wait!  Give me just a minute,

To stare at it with nothing in it!”

But if he heard, he did not stop.

A jersey landed with a plop,

On the Bottom of the Hamper.

And there I stood as if awakened,

From a dream, like one mistaken.

Did I see it?  Was it true?

It was real, that much I knew.

And though I haven’t seen it since,

Of this one thing I am convinced—

There really is a Bottom of the Hamper.

*Disclaimer: No actual hampers were emptied during the writing of this poem.

 

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