There once was a mommy
Who loved to cook alone.
Without the clumsy hands of children
Making messes on her throne.
For years she shooed them out,
Justifying it with ease.
For when she cooked it brought her peace,
And to more of that she cried, "Yes, please!"
But her impatience caused her shame,
Her selfishness made her sad
For when upon her counters they sat
Her babies' hearts were glad.
And while she flinched as they spilled,
And grimaced as they stirred,
With a bright smile and velvety voice
She encouraged with her words.
Astonished, she watched her oldest boy
Get a sparkle in his eye.
For her very tiny sacrifice
Thrilled his heart, made it fly.
His feet quickly pattered down the hall,
Pen and paper in hand.
And he emerged with a token of gratitude:
A child's love freely given
Is a priceless treasure.
And as she scrubs the floors and counters
Her mommy-heart brims with pleasure.