Wet Oatmeal Kisses......
A young mother writes: "I know you've written before about the empty-nest
syndrome -- that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right
now,
I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the
boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I
fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you.''
OK. One of these days you'll explode and shout to
the kids, "Why don't you 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 don't.
You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy -- bumper stickers
discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the 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 your hear?''
.....and you'll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghtetti.
No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms.
No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps.
No more clothespins under the sofa.
No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent
No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathrooms.
No more iron-on-patches, wet, knotted shoestrings, tight boots, or rubber bands
for ponytails.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it.
No baby sitter for New Year's 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.
No more dandelion bouquets.
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."
by Erma Bombeck
Note from GranGran: Thanks to a new eMail friend, Christine, I now have the
original version of this. I should have realized it was an Erma Bombeck
classic. In my opinion, she was one phenomenal woman. She originally called
this "Be Careful What You Ask For."
The only line that I left in that was not from her original was "no more
dandelion bouquets." And I don't think she'd mind that little addition. After
all, anyone that ever answered to "Mommy" knows there is nothing more special
than being given a grubby handful of "beautiful" flowers.
Click on the button below to send this page to a friend.
Sign Guestbook
View Guestbook
Home
EMail
|
|
|