The poem
My daughter Susie, aged two, Apes me in every way, For as my household chores I do With brooms she loves to play. A scrubbing brush to her is dear; Ah! Though my soul it vex, My bunch of cuteness has, I fear, Kitchen complex.
My dream was that she might go far, And play or sing or dance; Aye, even be a movie star Of glamour and romance. But no more with such hope I think, For now her fondest wish is To draw a chair up to the sink And wash the dishes.
Yet when you put it to a test In ups and downs of life, A maiden's mission may be best To make a good house-wife; To bake, to cook, to knit, to lave: And so I pray that Sue Will keep a happy hearth and have A baby too.