Six a.m., cook hubby's breakfast before work, eggshells stuck to the counter, I want to go berserk, our dog leaves a, "present* on the carpet, lucky me slips in it, got to put this sort of in rhyme, before I lose my friggin' mind. Is it me, or is housework a calamity ? scrubbing toilets makes me joyless, mopping kitchen floor, need I say anymore, dishwasher decides to break down - just for the hell of it, vacuum cleaner sucks up socks and cereal, every bit, the toaster sends the toast into orbit, I need to sit ! can this housewife throw in the apron and quit ?! Is it me, or is an immaculate home, only on the cover of, "Good Housekeeping ?* we'll, it's something to strive for - in quite wishful dreaming !