Do you ever wonder that someday, your kids will be grown? And when that time comes, things are going to be a lot different. The garage won’t be full of bikes, electric train tracks on plywood, doll houses, or unfinished “experimental projects”. You’ll be able to park your car neatly in just the right place and never worry about stumbling over skateboards or scooters. When that day comes, the kitchen will be incredibly neat. The sink will be free of sticky dishes, the garbage disposal won’t get choked on wraps of new toys, or paper cups, the refrigerator won’t be clogged with different kinds of kid’s meal, and we won’t lose the tops of bottle milk, butter, juice drinks, or the mustard.

The water jar won’t be put back empty, (that’s if Daddy refills the jar), the ice trays won’t be left out overnight, the leftover of any pretend tea party will be tidied up and the chocolate drink will stay in the cups and not on the floor. When that day comes, as a mother, you will actually have time to get dressed leisurely. A long, hot bath (without any panic interruptions), time to do your nails (even toenails if you please!) without answering a dozen questions and reviewing spelling words, having had your hair done that afternoon without trying to squeeze it in between racing a sick child to the doc and a trip to the orthodontist with a kid in a bad mood because she lost her favorite sneakers.

When that day comes, the back seat won’t be a disaster area; we won’t sit on pencils or crayons anymore and there won’t be candy and chocolate wraps everywhere. We’ll be able to ride the car in peace and quiet and be able to listen to your favorite radio station. When that time comes, you will return to normal conversations with your spouse. You know just plain kid’s talk. “Gross” won’t punctuate every sentence seven times. “Yuk!” will not be heard. “Hurry up, I gotta go!” will not accompany the banging of fists on the bathroom door. “It’s my turn” won’t call for a referee. And a magazine article will be read in full without interruption, and then discussed at length without mom and dad having to hide in the bedroom to finish the conversation.

When that day comes, we won’t run out of hand soap (due to constant washing of hands), or pringles and juice. My spouse won’t lose his keys. We won’t forget to shut the refrigerator door. I won’t have to dream up new ways of diverting attention from the gumball machine whenever we go to the store . . . or have to answer “Mummy, is it a sin that you just ran the red light?” . . . or promise to kiss their baby dolls goodnight . . . or in future, wait up forever until they get home from dates . . . or be ready for a debate during homework . . . or endure the pious pounding of kids jumping on the bed especially when you have a serious headache. Yes, someday when the kids are grown, things are going to be a lot different. One by one they’ll leave our nest, and the place will begin to resemble order and maybe even a touch of elegance. The clink of china and silver will be heard on occasion. The crackling of the fireplace will echo through the hallway. The house will be quiet . . . and calm . . . and always clean . . . and empty . . . and filled with memories . . . and lonely . . . and we won’t like that at all.

And we’ll spend our time not looking forward to that day but looking back to yesterday. And thinking, “Maybe we can babysit the grandkids and get some life back in this place for a change!” Now I understand why my mum asked us to let our baby stay home for one more month before he starts daycare.

Written by:

Kehinde Oguntunde

Edited by #Moving Forward With Yinka