Dust I Must

When someone says, “You could eat off the floors,”
They don’t refer to mine.
I wash the floors when they look gross,
But most days they look fine.

“Good Housekeeping” would not reward me
With their golden seal.
They’d look for someone, unlike me,
Who scrubs and scours with zeal.

My mother was far worse –
I am the apple, she the tree.
Perhaps the perfect homemaker’s
Not in my pedigree.

Yet I am not a total slob.
My home won’t earn disgust;
‘Cause when I notice any shmutz,
I’ll cave, and dust I must!