NOSE BACK TO THE GRINDSTONE

I sit in a class (after some 10-odd years) with 50 others, zoned out and trying hard to keep an expression of avid interest on my countenance. It wouldn't do to antagonize the presenters. After all I have been there, done that. To stay awake, I begin a mental list of things I am going to be missing out on, now that I have rejoined the class of "working moms."

-No more pajamas all day long. Color coordination is in, and if the buttons are all intact-half the battle won.
-Yes, I do need to figure out where the comb has hidden itself.
-Yeah, I have to look at the clock at intervals and not just to see if
> my favorite movie has begun on the tube yet.
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> -No more catnaps.
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> -No more eating whenever I felt like it.
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> -No more gaining malicious pleasure out of scaring salesmen with gunk on
> my face.
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> -No more dance class and prancing about the gym.
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> -No more walks to pick up my son and seeing the grin on his face as he
> races home.
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> -No more time or energy to listen to all the stories his vivid
> imagination conjures up.
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> -No more tea-time gossip sessions with mom.
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> Sigh!!! Is it all worth it in the end???
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