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." 

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

 when the kids are grown, I'll prepare Quiche Loraine,
or Scallops Amandine, 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'll eat by candle light,
with no one trying to roast their peas and carrots
over the flame to "make them taste better,"
or arguing about who gets to blow out the candle
when we're done. 

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 billows of bubbles
for a whole hour, and no fists will pound on the door,
no small voices will yell, "Hurry up, Mommy! I gotta go!" 

when the kids are grown, life will be different.
They'll leave our 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~

Back to Main Menu

Back to Poems

Email