When you brought your games to me, I told you “Not now,” and quietly,
I cleaned the house, I’d iron and cook, but when you’d bring your story book, And ask me to sit and read to you, I’d say, “I have too much to do”.
I’d tuck you in your bed at night, you’d say your prayers, I’d dim the light.
Too quickly I’d pass through the door, I should have stayed a minute more.
Life’s much too short, each year flies past, my little boy grew up so fast.
No longer playing by my side, for me to nurture and to guide.
The books and toys are packed away, no longer are there games to play.
No precious bedtime prayers to hear, that all belongs to yester-year.
My days once busy now are calm, the hours empty and too long.
I wish I could go back and do, all the things you asked me to.
At the time you don’t realize it, but raising your child is the best time of your life!