Why Don't You Grow Up? by Erma Bombeck

This classic was recently sent to me by my mother. With my youngest two children being 3.5 years and 2.5 months ( only 14 months apart), some days are a hectic blur! LOL Reading this poem helps me to remember that raising children is just for a short season, one that I choose to cherish!


Why Don’t You Grow Up?
By Erma Bombeck

One of these days you’ll explode and shout, “Why don’t you 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 don’t.
You’ll straighten up the boy’s bedroom neat and tidy, stickers discarded, bedspreads tucked neat and smooth, toys on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals in their places. And you’ll say out loud, “Now I want it to stay that way and it will.
You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that isn’t 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’ll eat it alone.
You’ll say: “I want privacy on the phone, no fooling around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear me?”
…and you’ll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti sauce.
No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from wet bottoms.
No more gates to stumble over at the top of the stairs.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent.
No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom.
No more iron on patches wet knotted shoestrings, or rubber bands for ponytails.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it.
No baby sitter for New Year’s Eve.
Washing only once a week.
Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings.
No car pools.
No blaring radios.
No one washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night.
Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste.
No more sloppy oatmeal kisses.
No more tooth fairy.
No giggles in the dark.
No knees to heal. No responsibility.
Only a voice crying,” Why don’t you grow up?’ and the silence echoing, “I did.”