Imagine raking leaves in autumn
ino nice neat piles,
sorted by color or tree.
Imagine leaving those piles in the yard,
for later.
You know what would happen:
The wind would blow,
The leaves would scatter,
More leaves would fall.
No more neatly sorted piles.
That's what it's like when
my mother tries to take over the job
of managing the household paperwork
from my brain-ravaged father, a retired accountant.
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