It's not so bad....

It's not so bad, when dinner's late
At the end of a too-long day,
When the big kids are clamoring to eat,
And Cheerios crunch beneath your bare feet
As you impatiently wait for pasta to boil,
And the quiet, self-sufficient toddler
Helps himself to an unfinished bowl of popcorn on the table,
And his chair tips over and ends his quietness,
And as you hug him against your hip,
He spots the ancient marshmallows in the open cabinet,
And cries still more earnestly when you tell him no,
And the baby, patient no more,
Begins to desperately slurp her fingers,
So you dig out some long forgotten music,
The grown-up kind you never listen to anymore,
And you scoop up restless baby,
And squeeze close the unhappy toddler,
And dance in the kitchen while the pasta boils,
Swaying and circling to bluegrass tunes,
And singing still-remembered lyrics,
While the baby clutches your hair in sticky fists,
And the toddler grins and hangs on your hip,
And Cheerios crunch beneath your bare feet.
It's not so bad.