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December 2, 2015 / 20 Kislev, 5776
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The Day After Purim…

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‘Twas the morning after Purim and in a ba’al batishe house,

A bleary-eyed husband tried not to wake up his spouse,

As he slowly sat up and got out of bed,

His hands unsteady as they held his splitting head.


He wondered if at the seudah he had too much to drink,

He couldn’t remember – and it hurt to even think.

He knew there were l’chaims, and many a hearty toast,

Before and during and after the mouth-watering roast.


And then there were those bachurim on a mission of collection,

He couldn’t let them leave with a feeling of rejection.

So he gave them money, and shared with each a drink,

Ummmmaybe he should check the powder-room sink.


Unbeknownst to him, his wife was wide-awake,

Unwilling to get up ’cause she knew what was at stake,

The mess after Purim was truly just the beginning,

For ahead was a month of non-stop Pesach/spring cleaning.


What her house looked like she could easily surmise,

For this ba’alebuste, post-Purim was no surprise.

Cookies in the bedrooms and popcorn in the den,

Hamantashen in the study, and goo on Tatti’s pen.

Shoes prints on the carpet, brought in from outside,

By eager children on their mishloach manos ride.


Sticky strips of cotton candy stuck on the windowpane,

And the legs of the sofa couch covered in cellophane,

A trail of dented gumballs along the upstairs hall,

And dark chocolate handprints decorating the entrance wall.


Beer and soda cans that rolled under the table,

Puddles of spilled liquids from hands no longer stable,

Costumes and mishloach manos bags strewn all around,

Plastic cups and candy wrappers thrown on the ground.


The ba’al habayis grabbed his hat and quickly fled to shul,

He might still be giddy – but he’s certainly not a fool.

He promised to himself, he’d come home and clean the mess,

But as his ezer k’negdo knew – that would be a ness.


And so this aishes chayil arose, though she’d rather have stayed in bed,

Knowing that there was no getting out of the grueling days ahead.

“Modeh ani,” she prayed, expressing her gratitude daily,

Fortified by the happy thought – that she has a cleaning lady!

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