Wouldn't you think that the person who plans,

The person who changes the pots and the pans,

The person who suffers the elbowing crowd,

And brings home the matzoh meal, bloody and bowed,

Who battles the butcher, accumulates plates,

And races the clock to those Passover dates,

Who polishes silverware, commandeers chairs,

And goes around muttering, "Nobody cares",

Who fixes charoset and karpos and eggs,

And winds up with headaches and cramps in her legs,

Wouldn't you think when the matzoh is hid, SHE merits the prize, not some smart-aleck kid?


haggadah Section: Tzafun