I won’t miss waking in the middle of the night
Or arguing about the brightness of a night light
And I’ll be happy to forget the sticky messes
Or spit-up clots of food stuck to tiny dresses
I won’t miss the inability to ask or explain
Wondering what percolates in that tiny brain
Teething marks on furniture, books and toys
Bumping heads on tables’ undersides — oh, the joy!
Mouths that so easily lose hold on food that’s now goo
Waiting hours for a little bit of eating to be through
No, I won’t miss these days, no matter what you say
If I grow nostalgic, it’ll be because I forgot someday
Running in the dark because of screaming in the night
Wiping parts that shouldn’t be exposed to light
I won’t miss the ache that grows in my back
Though I might long for the posture that I now lack
Repeating simple commands at least a hundred times
What was once my brain is now just mush and slime
I won’t miss when they licked sidewalks or ate bugs
Or chewed through live wires and bent all the plugs
I won’t miss that the trash can is the first place I look
When we’ve lost a toy, clothes, a phone or a book
No, I won’t miss these days, no matter what you thought
If I look back fondly, it’ll only be because I forgot