Ode to the Kitchen Roll

I’m told I shouldn’t use you

that because of trees, we breathe;

but under the sink lies a motley crew

of tatty cloths I’d rather leave.

.

You sit on my kitchen counter top

soft, sophisticated, and clean,

ready for the smallest drop

to wipe like it had never been.

.

Call me lazy, idle, ignorant,

just because I don’t stop to think,

or humour others, like some sycophant

when play dough’s blocking my sink

.

and toddler’s cramming teddy

into my nutriblender

while Maisie’s punching Freddy

and he refuses to surrender.

.

Chocolate trails from mouth to door

Mr’s looking for a clean shirt

and juice blobs orange along the floor

and I can’t see sense for all the dirt,

.

Will I start rummaging for some rag

then have to rinse and plonk it somewhere

or will I tear a piece of kitchen roll?

Come challenge me—see if you dare!