Private oasis, suds machine, kids- and dog-cleaner, a busy parent's in-house getaway.

One wee soldier, Among the ranks, Which surround, To guard the flanks. I brace myself, As hand draws near, A little pinch, My death you hear.

I'm the last thing you want to feel when you're out and about. If it wasn't for the mirror you'd never figure it out. I'm small but pack a heck of a punch. If you look down you might spot me in your lunch.

In a porcelain sea, I recline with glee, A vessel of warmth, where bubbles roam free.

It symbolizes family, belonging, and a sense of security Yet you can have all of those without possessing it It's just two to three decades of mortgage payments away