My Wednesday Balabusta

She comes in the back door around nine o’clock
She changes right into her red paisley smock
She’s dusting and polishing, the shmutz goes away
I know she’ll go too by the end of the day
She bends down and wipes underneath every door
She reaches and bleaches the whole kitchen floor
I know that she’s leaving at quarter to three
Maybe I’ll spill something, she’ll stay longer with me
She’s my Wednesday balabusta
She’s my Tuesday Weld
My June Cleaver
She’s my once-a-week balabusta
And I’m weak in the knees
Watching her clean
Her phone rings, she’s speaking in words I don’t know
I’m hoping he’s telling her it’s time for him to go
The thought of her with me, I’m starting to shvitz
Maybe I’ll order those tapes from Berlitz
She’s hungry, she stops for a Nutrisystem drink
She’s perfect but she doesn’t know what I think
I should get another place that’s not too far away
Maybe she’ll give me an extra day
She’s my Wednesday balabusta
She’s my Sunday bride
My May flower
She’s my once-a-week balabusta
And I wish that she’d
Vacuum me in
She picks up the money, she’s waving good-bye
I’m smiling but inside I’m starting to cry
I keep things too tidy, so she’ll like me too
I really should give her some more things to do
I’m shivering, I found it, it’s something she wrote
I need Ajax and Clorox, it’s all in the note
It’s her way of telling me she’ll see me again
I’m happy I don’t have to wonder when
She’s my Wednesday balabusta
A mid-week mitzvah
The place is spotless
She’s my once-a-week balabusta
And I’ll see her again
Next week