My Favorite Strings

Aprons on mothers and sometimes on daughters,

Guys wear 'em, too; or at least sometimes ought-er.

Pockets in front, and backs tied up with strings,

Here's what makes 'em the handiest things:

Wipe down the counter, and dry off those fingers.

Dab away tears, a sweet memory that lingers.

Carry in eggs, apples, pine cones and mail;

when they get old they can be your kite’s tail.

                 //When the door knocks!//

            //When the grease pops! //
//And your clothes stay clean!//

       The apron’s your friend ,

you can so, “tie one on”;

So, why stop at one?

Get sixteen!

♥♥♥♥♥

_Thanks to Gitano, fellow-AllRecipes member who inspired me to think about aprons through her Sept. 7 "The History of Aprons" blog entry. The first draft of this poem appears as my (Hezzy_tant_Cook's) comment beneath her blog.
_Also, of course, inspired by the rhymes and rhythms of Sound of Music's "A Few of My Favorite Things".