One of these
days, you'll shout, "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!"
And they will.
Or, "You guys get
outside and find yourselves something to do ...
and don't slam the
door!"
And they won't.
You'll straighten
up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy, bumper stickers
discarded, bedspread
tucked and smooth, toys displayed on their shelves.
Hangers in the closet.
Animals caged. And you'll say out loud,
"Now I want it to
stay this way."
And it will.
You'll prepare a
perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to
death and a cake
with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say,
"Now, there's a
meal for company."
And you'll eat
it alone.
You'll say, "I want
complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around.
No demolition crews.Silence!
Do you hear?"
And you'll have
it.
No more plastic tablecloths
stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads
to protect the sofa
from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement
stairs. No more clothespins under the sofa.
No more playpens
to arrange the room around.
No more anxious nights
under a vaporizer tent. No more sand in the sheets
or Popeye movies
in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches,
rubber bands for
ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick
with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Years Eve.
Washing only once
a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground.
Having your teeth
cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings.
No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her
hair at 11 o'clock
at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it.
No more Christmas
presents out of toothpicks and library paste.
No more sloppy oatmeal
kisses. No more tooth fairy.
No giggles in the
dark. No knees to heal. No responsibility.
Only a voice crying,
"Why don't you grow up?"
And the silence echoing,
"I did."
author:
Erma Bombeck
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