“This Ain’t Mommy’s Job!”

It’s just after Mother’s Day
And all throughout the house,
The messes are so many,
And I feel like a louse.

I had given my best shot.
And used all of my might
To keep the messes, un-messed,
And the fallen, up right.

Now dog hair’s in the hallway,
With my undies on the floor.
And reality sets in…
That it’s Mother’s Day…no more.

The kids run in from playing
While discarding shoes and socks,
With none of them landing in (or near)
The laundry basket box.

“This ain’t mommy’s job!” I bark,
“Come pick up all this mess!
Who did you think would get it?
Nevermind. Let me guess…

Keep cleaning till you’re finished!
She’s on her way just now!
And when she passes through that door
She better be, like, ‘Wow!’

Cause this year will be different!
And all the world will know, that
Mother’s day in the McCarthy house
Is a twenty-four hour show!”

So…

Clothes and shoes went flying,
As did the dog hair left there lying.

Socks were turned from inside out,
And little was left, scattered about.

Dishes were cleaned and (mostly) put up.
That’s (almost) every plate. That’s (almost) every cup.

Brooms were swishing and mops were swashing,
And most every elbow in the house was washing.

Many things had needed doing.
A lot of straightening – even some gluing.

Then…

“The garage door just opened
And soon she’ll be inside!”
To witness what we’d done
As we all just beamed with pride.

We watched her pass right by the hair
– No more there in the corner.
Over the damp and freshly mopped floor
– Before we thought to warn her.

She scooted by the laundry, and
The sink that held no dishes.
And saw NOT the broken vase
As had been ALL our wishes.

She then plopped herself down on
The couch (once) covered with stuff,
And noticed not the pillow
Nor the lack of its fluffy fluff.

She cared not about the mess
That once had covered the house,
Or the peanut butter stain
That was put upon her blouse.

She cared only to be home
With the family she loves.
For whom she does so much for
Despite the mess and shoves.

She was gone but for an hour
And you’d think it was for days,
By all the attention that she got
In lots and many ways.

“But mommy did you notice?”
“And mommy did you see?”
“All the special things we did?
“All for you, all by me!”

And as they went, on and on,
Telling tales of all their deeds,
I sat and wondered just how does
She attend to all our needs?

She is, after all, one person
Who’s the primary for all six,
Just how can she do it all
With such chaos in the mix?

She is the mother of 4 boys
And the husband of this 1.
She’s been given many special gifts,
And we’re blessed by every one.

So I left them to their gushing
For she’s deserving of every word.
As I wandered down the hallway,
Twas their laughing that I heard.

No mention of the messes
That still lingered all around.
For with just the slightest glance (or two)
One was certain to be found.

Every day should be for mom.

A day for just – receiving.
A day where our love for her
Is right there for – believing.

Show mom each and every day
That you don’t need a date,
To show how much you love her,
And do appreciate

Everything she does for you
Things so big, things so small.
And show her that you love her
Everyday. One and all.

Happy Belated Mother’s Day Everyone!