If you give a mom a cookie,
It won’t stay hers for long,
For no matter where she’s hiding,
Her kids will come along.

They’ll beg her for a bite,
They promise “only one!”
She knows that if she listens,
That whole cookie will be gone.

If you give a mom a cookie,
Or really anything to eat,
She’ll tell her kids that it’s “too spicy”,
Hoping that they won’t want her treat.

That little white lie is hopeless,
Her kids won’t really care,
Until they get a bite or four,
They won’t get out of her hair.

If you give a mom a cookie,
In the pantry she’ll go hide,
Or possibly her closet,
Or maybe just outside.

She may eat the whole darn cookie,
In a solitary bite,
She’ll clean up every crumb she made,
Just to get it out of sight.

If you give a mom a cookie,
She’ll want to keep it for herself,
It’s not that she’s being selfish,
Mean or cruel or anything else.

She would love a single thing,
That she could enjoy on her own,
Have a moment of peace and quiet,
Without the children’s screams and moans.

If you give a mom a cookie,
Just like everything else she owns,
She will share it with her children,
That’s just how the story goes.

She shares her home and her belongings,
But that’s just the very start,
Because it’s not just sharing the cookie,
It’s sharing her entire heart.

This post was originally published on the author’s Facebook page