Thankless

Jesus stopped by just as my son screamed for more --

More syrup, More butter,

More, More, More!

The Messiah pulled out a seat,

his robe drug across my filthy floor

"You see that?!" I demanded as my kid ran from the table

"You see that?! I slammed my fist, "It's Thankless -- Motherhood is Thankless!"

He sighed and smiled, then helped me clear the dishes

Later, he joined us on a walk where my boys stomped the life out of me with muddy boots and demands for hoists to the highest branches

As we shuffled home, I cried again "Thankless, Lord -- Motherhood is Thankless!"

He nodded then took the stroller at the steepest part of the hill

Back home, it was ANOTHER meal with every morsel heated just so and every sippy cup filled just right and every screaming tot in my litter regarding my work with a MAGNIFICENT lack of appreciation

This time, I just shot Him a look

Again, He nodded

I threw the kids down for naps then collapsed on the couch

Christ sat on the floor beside me and took my hand

I felt his palm -- my finger traced callouses then stopped at the hole in its center

"It's Thankless, Lord, " I said, "Motherhood is SO Thankless"

And as I fell asleep, He stroked my brow then covered me with a blanket

He closed my drapes and turned on the fan, knowing I like its hum

He then whispered in my ear before He slipped out the door,

No dear, Motherhood is not Thankless,

Because it is Precisely How

You Thank Me