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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