This was written years ago by Erma Bombeck.
No More Oatmeal Kisses-January 29,1969
A young mother writes,"I know you've written before about the empty-nest syndrone,that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething:the boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?"
OK. One of these days, you'll shout, "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!" And they will. Or, "You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do...and don't slam the door!" And they won't.
You'll staighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say our loud, "Now I want it to stay this way." And it will.
You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say, Now, there's a meal for company." And you'll eat it alone.
You'll say, I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?" And you'll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins in the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year's Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?" and the silence echoing,"I did."
My version has been on my fridge for probably 25 years. It's old and yellow and taped in a few places. It ran in Ann Lander's column years ago with no attribution to Erma B., so i don't know if this is just another version of hers, or if she adapted it or what, but here's what my copy says:
Wet Oatmeal Kisses
The baby is teething.The children are fighting. Your husband just called and said, "Eat dinner without me."
One of these days you'll explode and shout to the kids, "Why don't you grow up and act your age?" And they will.
Or "You guys get outside and find yourselves somethiung to do. And don't slam the door!" And they don't.
You'll straighten their bedrooms all neat and tidy, toys displayed on the shelf, hangers in the closet, animals caged. You'll yell, "Now I want it to stay this way!" And it will.
You will prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't had all the olives picked out and a cake with no finger traces in the icing and you'll say: "Now THIS is a meal for company." And you will eat it alone.
You'll yell, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No screaming. Do you hear me?" And no one will answer.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more dandelion boquets. No more iron-on patches. No more wet, knotted shoelaces, muddy boots or rubber bands for ponytails. Imagine. A lipstick with a point. No baby-sitter for New year's Eve, washing clothes only once a week, no PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree. No carpools, blaring stereos or forgotten lunch money.
No more Christmas presents made of library npaste and toothpicks. No wet oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No more giggles in the dark, skinned knees to kiss or sticky fingers to clean. Only a voice asking, "Why don't you grow up?"
And the silence echoes, "I did."
Yeah, it's going to be tough. My youngest will be 17 thursday and will be off to college next fall. My two older ones are 10 and 16 years older than she is, so they've been gone for a while, and my ex left when she was just a baby, so it's been just the two of us for a
long time. I will either get a part time job (gotta pay for college!) and/or do lots of volunteering and take a few classes for fun. Sometimes I am looking forward to the next phase of my life (after all, I've been raising kids for 32 years) and sometimes I am just a total mess. I know it won't be easy, but I'm sure we'll all adjust, and some days we'll even revel in our new-found freedom. (Shhhh! Don't tell the kids!)