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You're welcome, internet.

Dear status update, dear Facebook; here I make a solemn vow
That throughout my lovely married life some things I’ll not allow
No detailed play-by-play of cleaning; no album of food I cook
No, my menial daily details shall not be here when you look

I won’t burden you with descriptions of how much mold I’ve seen
Nor bore with exclamations of the stores to which I’ve been
I’ll not brag of groceries carried through the snow, uphill both ways
I’ll refrain from sharing every humorous thing my husband says

Should I learn that Christmas trees can be re-purposed in a stew
If I shout of this finding, dear Facebook, it will not be to you
Though my laundry skill may keep even one sock from escaping
Or I may once receive an honorary Nobel prize for decorating

Though I may someday be elected as the president of water-filtering
Or add to the English language quaint words such as “Milkering”
(The act of filtering milk- but you must have known that)
I still will not update you daily on my every inspiring act

So dear Facebook, as I promise all of this- or rather, vow
Please know that I am vacuuming left-handed even now
I’ll never stop my duties as wife, woman, and Sarah Anne 
But my statuses will always be as interesting as they can.

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