Will it ever end? The mountains of laundry, the bickering, the whining, the poop under my fingernails? Will it ever end? The incessant clearing of the table, the wiping of the table, the resetting of the table for the next meal? The uneaten vegetables? The pee dribbled everywhere but the toilet? The repeating myself over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over? The 20 minutes it takes to get everyone's shoes on and coats on and tricycles down from the hooks and out the door and into the tiny elevator and down to the courtyard, and then the 20 minutes it takes to corral everyone back into the elevator and back into the apartment and wash all of their muddy hands and change all of their muddy pants?
Will it ever end?
Yes. It will.