Motherhood
Just Do The F*cking Dishes.
A mother’s plea.
I don’t need to be asked how I’m feeling right now.
I just need a bit of help.
I don’t need any complaining right now.
I just need this one thing.
I don’t need anything else.
Nothing at all.
Just do the f*cking dishes.
The dishes that have been sitting in the sink since last night.
The dishes no one else seems to see except for me.
The dishes ever no one wants to do — including me.
The dishes that don’t get done on their own.
This is an exhausted mother’s plea.
I don’t need anything else right now. Doing the dishes is enough. It would really help if it could be done without me having to ask again, too.
Such a seemingly small act would mean so much and give me such relief.
Just do the f*ucking dishes.
It will help more than anyone knows.
I don’t need anything else.
Just that.
Just this one thing right now.
It’s not a big thing. It’s not a time-consuming thing. But it would make a world of difference in my day.
This is an exhausted mother’s plea.
Please just do the f*cking dishes.
Love,
Mom.
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