Someday, I won’t have a baby in my arms, or toys on the floor, or heaps of laundry in the hall.

Someday, I won’t hear “I’m thirsty,” or “I’m hungry,” or “I don’t like that!”


Someday, there won’t be food on the floor, or stacks of dirty dishes, or art projects on the walls.


Someday, I’ll look back on these days, and wish I could bring them back.

Leave a Reply