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 will.
You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy ... bumper stickers discarded ... spread tucked and smoothed ... toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say, "Now I want it to stay that 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 eat it alone.
You'll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No pantomimes. No demolition crews. Silence. Do you hear?" And you'll have it.
No more plastic tableclothes stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect 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 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 babysitter for New Year's Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby in your lap. No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 0'clock. Having your own roll of transparent tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy, oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?" and the silence echoing, "I did."