Someday, I will visit my adult children in their own homes. I intend to walk in, toss both my pocketbook and coat on the floor and promptly misplace my car keys. I will walk into the kitchen; look in their fridge and no matter how much or how little is in there, I plan to complain, “There is never anything to eat in this house”. Then I will sit on their couch with my shoes on and my legs tucked under me, grab the TV remote and turn the TV. I will be doing all this while they are still trying to greet me after picking up my coat and pointing out all the nice fruit and cheese in the fridge waiting to be consumed. I will most definitely use up all the toilet paper and not replace the roll

I will gripe about what’s for dinner, ignore the napkin provided for my use, not offer to help clean up after, regrab the remote and grunt in response to any questions directed my way that might revel anything about my personal life.

I will wonder aloud, why they seem irate and demand to know why they are always annoyed with me and what their problem is.

Or, maybe I will do none of those things. Someday I will visit my adult children and their teenagers in their own homes. I will walk in and hang up my coat and pocketbook, after stowing my keys in the pocketbook. I will not raid their fridge. I may uses the toilet depending, but will replace the role if I use it up. Then I will sit on the couch; listen to my children talk about their teenage children. I intend to nod with sympathy, duck my head and ….smile.

Someday.