Thanks to Shannon for sharing this poem with me.
Come In!
But don't expect to find all dishes done, all floors ashine.
Observe the crumpled rug, the toys galore, the smudgy, fingerprinted door.
The little ones I shelter here don't thrive on 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 "Come and look! Come and see!"
Wiggly worms and red scraped knees.
Painted pictures, blockes piled high, my floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee this nest and I, at last, will take my rest.
And which really matters more?
A happy child or a polished floor?