When I’m old and my kids are grown

 When I’m old and my kids are grown, I know I won’t sit there reminiscing about how clean my kitchen was. I won’t smile over the perfectly folded laundry or the spotless floors.

I’ll remember the giggles.
The messy snacks.
The way they begged me to play for just five more minutes.
The days I chose them instead of the to-do list.

So today I’m choosing memories over dishes.
The mess can wait.
Their childhood can’t.