I Didn't Mean to do it...

I didn't mean to do it Mommy
Said the child so small
Will I remember the broken glass
Or the tears that would then fall?

Will I look back and remember
Dirty fingerprints on the door
Back when my big boy
Was just a tiny four?

Will I remember making mudpies
In the sandbox right out back
Or will this be a memory
That I will find I lack?

Will I remember the tiny hands
That tried to pour the tea?
Or will my memories be obscured
By the mess it left for me?

Will I remember the curious questions
Of my little child?
Or will I be to distracted
With the dishes that were piled?

Will I remember the spring blossoms
That were picked by the child of six?
Or will I remember scolding them
For the garden I now must fix?

Will I remember the tiny hands
That the fingerpaint clung to?
Or will I remember the work involved
In removing the stained hue?

Will I remember dunking cookies
In a glass of milk so cold?
Or will my memories be only
of the couch stain so bold?

Will I remember the fun we had
Draping blankets over chairs?
Or will I just remember
mending my best quilt's tears?

Will I remember painting fingernails
And her face that held the smile?
Or just the spilled polish
On the table in a pile?

Will I remember the sound of bouncing balls
Down the hallway floor?
Or just remember cleaning
Muddy ballprints off the door?

Will I remember their creativity
And their strong will to be heard?
Or will I remember marker mess
And the struggles that occurred?

Am I savoring every moment
For they are passing quick...
Or overlooking these small moments
As the hands of time go tick?