This is a true story.
Once there was a Mama who had a rather enjoyable daughter.
The daughter loved to play, and she wasn’t particularly fond of dealing with messes.
One day, the daughter created the mother of all messes. The mess was so big, she could stretch her arms out as wide as they could go, and she still wasn’t big enough to hug all of the mess.
Mama said, “Who will help me clean up this mess?”
“Not I,” replied the daughter, dragging another pillow to lounge on in the baby’s crib.
So the Mama stacked some clothes.
“Who will help me clean up this mess?” Mama asked a bit later.
“Not I,” replied the daughter, unrolling the toilet paper in the bathroom.
So the Mama organized some diapers.
“Who will help me clean up this mess?” Mama asked soon enough.
“Not. I.” replied the daughter between bounces on the bed.
So the Mama matched some socks.
“Who will help me clean up this mess?” Mama tried one last time.
“Not I” replied the daughter as she pawned through the Mama’s necklaces.
Then the daughter looked up. “Mama? I’m having so much fun. You’re working. And I’m having so! much! fun!”
The Mama replied, with a knowing Mama sort of twinkle in her eye, “Yes, little Daughter. You’re having lots of fun. For now.”
“Mama?” the daughter asked awhile later.
“Yes?” said the Mama, pausing in mid-stir at the stove.
“Who will help me pick up my room?”
“Not I,” said the Mama, returning to dinner preparation.
“But Mama! I need help cleaning up my room!” wailed the daughter.
“I’m sure you do,” came Mama’s long suffering reply. She gave the daughter her most twinkly knowing Mama look. “I know just how you feel.”
“But Mama! Look!” demanded the daughter.
“I’m crying real tears!”
Mama turned quickly away and hoped her quaking shoulders wouldn’t give her away.
If there’s a moral to this little story, it would be that sometimes you can cry real tears or sometimes you can laugh at life, and given the options, well, the laughing is so! much! fun! “May you live everyday of your life,” chimes in Jonathan Swift. Amen.