This is a poem that my family has had for several years, it was a present given to my mother when I was a teen.
This poem popped into my mind when I was reading a post over at Afternoon of Sundries called To Be Honest, It’s Okay.Some houses try to hide the fact That children shelter there; Ours boasts it quite openly… The signs are everywhere. For smears are on the windows, Little smudges on the door; I should apologize I guess For the toys strewn on the floor. But I sat down with he children And played, and laughed and read; And if the door bell doesn’t shine, their eyes will shine instead. For when I’m forced to choose One job or the other, It’s good to be a housewife But I’d rather be a Mother. –author unknown
It’s something that hung on the wall in our house in Riverton and it hangs up on the wall her in the duplex as well.
I’m not a mother nor am I a housewife, but it’s something that makes me think of my mother and the sister that I now live with. They would like to have a clean house, but it’s not the most important thing to them. (Though Mom did make sure we knew how to clean.)