I’d rather be a mother

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.)