At three, dry the forks with a flour-sack towel.
At four, dust the baseboards with an old undershirt.
At five, iron Daddy's handkerchiefs
and fold them into neat rectangles.
Mama prepares her daughter for a woman's future,
keeping house
like all of the silver and sepia women in her photo albums.
She can't predict a future of
interactive teleconferencing and data storage solutions
any more than her daughter can predict
a time when plunging her hands
into a sink full of spoons and hot bubbles
would be the most peaceful part of her day.
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