It’s Not Just A Fridge

I want to go walking, but there’s a dust cloud in the air,

I want to go walking, but how can I dare,

I want to go walking, but there’s the fridge to clean,

And if you saw my fridge, you’d know what I mean,

There are creatures living in it at least I think so,

As a vegetarian it’s hard for me to kill them you know,

There is food that has made its home on at least one shelf,

How can I give that food marching orders, even if bad for my health,

Okay, the time has come to battle away,

Armed with a mask, gloves and antiseptic spray,

I hope the fridge succumbs with relative ease,

My nerves can’t stand it, I’ve started to wheeze,

I have stared at it squarely to show it who’s boss,

And without much ado I have started to toss,

The food and other things contained deep within,

For the sake of Pesach, I don’t want to sin,

I am sure I just heard it make an indignant sound,

But I am bravely carrying on, till all chametz is found,

Please can I go walking I have had enough,

No you can’t go walking you need to be tough,

So I pick my legs up where they have collapsed on the floor,

Then rub my arms that are feeling quite sore,

And wonder what this cleaning has to do with no bread,

Isn’t Pesach supposed to be just about eating matza instead.

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