Capture The Moment
The baby is teething, the children are fighting, and your husband just called and said to eat dinner without him.
Okay, one of these days youíll shout, "Why donít you grow up and act your age."
And they will.
Or, "You guys get outside and find yourself something to do. And donít slam the door!"
And they wonít.
Youíll straighten up their bedrooms all neat and tidy with bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smoothed, toys all displayed on the shelves, hangers in the closets, animal caged, and youíll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way!"
And it will.
Then youíll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasnít been picked to death, a cake with no finger traces through the frosting, and youíll say, "Now, thereís a meal for company."
But, youíll eat it alone.
And youíll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around, no pantomimes, no demolition crews. "Silence! Do you hear me?"
And youíll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti, no more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent, no more dandelion bouquets, no more iron-on patches, no more wet-knotted shoe strings, no more tight boots, or rubber bands on ponytails.
Imagine your lipstick with a point. No baby sitter on New Yearís Eve. Washing clothes only once a week. No PTA meetings, no car pools, no blaring radios, having your own roll of tape, no more Christmas presents made of toothpicks and paste, no more wet-oatmeal kisses, no tooth fairy, no giggles in the dark, no knees to Band-aid. Only a memory of a voice crying, "Why donít you grow up?"
And in the silence will come the echo, "I did."