Come in, but don't expect to find All dishes done, all floors ashine.

Observe the crumgs and toys galore. The smudgy prints upon the door.

The little ones we shelter here Don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.

They're more inclined to disarray And carefree even messy play.

Their needs are great, their patience small. All day I'm at their beck and call.

It's Mommy come! Mommy see! Wiggly worms and red scraped knees.

Painted pictures, blocks piled high. My floors unshined, the days go by.

Some future day they'll flee this nest, And I at last will have a rest!

Now you tell me which matters more, A happy child or a polished floor?

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Some houses try to hide the fact that children shelter there.

Ours boasts of it quite openly, The signs are everywhere---

For smears are on the windows Little smudges on the doors;

I should apologize, I guess for the toys strewn on the floor---

But I sat down with the children and we played and laughed and read;

And if the doorbell doesn't shine, Their eyes will shine instead.

For when at times I'm forced to choose The one job or the other---

I want to be a housewife, But first I'll be a Mother.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Come in, but don't expect to find All dishes done, all floors ashine.

Observe the crumgs and toys galore. But I sat down with the children and we played and laughed and read;

And if the doorbell doesn't shine, Their eyes will shine instead.

For when at times I'm forced to choose The one job or the other---

I want to be a housewife, But first I'll be a Mother.

~~ Author Unknown ~~

Come in, but don't expect to find All dishes done, all floors ashine.

Observe the crumgs and toys galore. The smudgy prints upon the door.

The little ones we shelter here Don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.

They're more inclined to disarray And carefree even messy play.

Their needs are great, their patience small. All day I'm at their beck and call.

It's Mommy come! Mommy see! Wiggly worms and red scraped knees.

Painted pictures, blocks piled high. My floors unshined, the days go by.

Some future day they'll flee this nest, And I at last will have a rest!

Now you tell me which matters more, A happy child or a polished floor?

~~ Author Unknown ~~