Perspective...

The other day when I was whining about not having any knitting time, one of my favourite people sent me this poem. I'm sure she didn't mean to make me cry, and I certainly don't want to make you cry, but I feel like I'm chopping onions whenever I think about how one day my job will be done and my kids will move out and have lives of their own with whole separate identities. Enough already, I hate wearing my heart on my sleeve.

WET OATMEAL KISSES
The baby is teething;
The children are crying.
Your husband just called and said "Eat dinner without me."
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 yourself something to do,"and "don't slam the door!" And they don't.
You'll straighten their bedrooms all neat and tidy; toys displayed on the shelf; Hangers in the closet; animals caged. You'll yell, "Now I want it to stay this way."And it will.
You'll yell, "I want complete privacy on the phone -- no screaming! Do you hear me?" And no one will answer.
No more plastic tablecloths with stains of spaghetti.
No more dandelion bouquets.
No more iron-on patches.No more wet knotted shoelaces,muddy boots, or rubberbands for ponytails.
Imagine a lipstick with a point!
No babysitter for New Year's Eve.
Washing clothes only once a week.
No PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree.
No car pools, blaring stereos, or forgotten lunch money.
No more Christmas presents made of library paste and toothpicks.
No wet oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No more giggles in the dark, scraped knees to kiss or sticky fingers to wash.
Only a voice asking - "Why don't you grow up?"
And a silent echo -- "I did."
Author Unknown

My favourite line? The one that makes me laugh instead of cry

"silly school plays where your child is a tree."