A piece of cloth I thought you were,
Made of cotton, not leather or fur.
I saw you on sale,
So with nary a quail,
I clicked purchase and my money did transfer.
Just a shirt, and I thought that was that,
You kept me warm, and were nice to look at.
A pretty grey top,
with daisies on top,
You kept me decent and I didn’t look fat.
A shirt, I thought that was all that you were.
But I was so wrong, this I now concur.
My babies lay on you,
When they caught a bad flu,
My shirt to tissue they did prefer.
A mommy’s shirt is not just a shirt,
Let’s not talk about my pants or my skirts.
From tears to bubbly snot,
They’re all used to blot.
Why, it’s a catcher of all kinds of dirt!
It’s actually kind of amazing,
That your clothes when you’re childraising,
Double up duty as hanky,
Dishcloth, bib and blankie.
It’s all true and I’m not paraphrasing.
When your kids come crying for you,
And you’re scrambling for a tissue,
Any old shirt (or new) will do.
My shirts soak up tears,
And wipe away their fears,
My shirts are a comfort, it’s true.
If your clothes are faded and worn,
Just disregard that fashion blogger’s scorn.
Hold your head up high
Cos this shirt and that tie,
Have soothed your babies since they were born.
There once was a t-shirt from a website
With which I fell in love at first sight,
But my kids love it more,
And not because it’s Dior,
But ’cause it’s this shirt and mommy that will put everything right.
To my clothes,
My most precious material possessions. Those that I’ve carefully curated over the years and cherished for making me look cute and on point all the time. Now I value them for one more reason. For the last two years, you have not just been a fashion statement or an essential item for my modesty, but also a rag, a mop, a tissue paper, a handkerchief, a bib, and a hand towel.
Thank you for your service. You have served me and my family well.