SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown, life will be different.
The memo pad on my refrigerator door will read,
"Afternoon at Hairdresser," or
"Browse through art gallery," or "Start golf lessons"
instead of, "Pediatrician at 2:00" or "Cub Pack Meeting".
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
the house will be free of graffiti.
There will be no crayoned smiley faces on the walls,
no names scrawled in furniture dust,
no pictures fingered on steamy windows,
and no initials etched in bars of soap.
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
I'll get through a whole chapter of an engrossing book
without being interrupted to sew a nose on a teddy bear,
stop a toddler from eating the dog food,
or rescue the cat from the toy box.
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
I won't find brown apple cores under the beds,
empty spindles on the toilet paper hanger,
or fuzzy caterpillars in denim jeans.
And I will be able to find a pencil in the desk drawer,
a slice of leftover pie in the refrigerator,
and the comics still in the center of the newspaper.
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
I'll breeze right past the gumball machine
in the supermarket without having to fumble for pennies.
I'll stroll freely down each aisle without fear
of inadvertently passing the candy or toy sections;
and I'll choose cereal without considering
what noise it makes. . .
what prize it contains. . .
or what color it comes in.
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
I'll prepare Quiche Loraine or Scallops Almondine,
or just plain liver and onions,
and no one will say,
"YUK! I wish we were having hot dogs!"
or, "Jimmy's lucky, his mom lets him eat
chocolate bars for dinner."
And we will eat by candlelight,
with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots
over the flame to "make them taste better,"
or arguring about who get to blow out the candle
when we're done.
SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
I'll get ready for my bath
without first having to remove a fleet of boats,
two rubber alligators,
and a soggy tennis ball from the tub.
I'll luxuriate in hot, steamy water
and billow in lots of bubbles for a whole hour,
and no fists will pound on the door,
no small voice will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta GO!"
Yes, SOMEDAY. . .
when the kids are grown,
life will be different.
They'll leave out nest,
and the house will be quiet. . .
and calm. . .
and empty. . .
and lonely. . .
And I won't like that at all!
And then I'll spend my time,
not looking forward to SOMEDAY. . .
but looking back at YESTERDAY.
~Author Unknown
