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I was standing in line at the pharmacy, minding my own business. I was rocking my brown paper bag of groceries as I hummed, "Five Little Monkeys Jumping In The Bed." Truthfully, I might have been singing it quietly.

Five little monkeys jumping on the bed, one fell out and bumped his head

Mama called the doctor and the doctor said, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed."

I bounced my brown bag as I continued the song. I could feel a pinch in my knees, but I was lost in time and continued. I was in the fourth stanza with only two little monkeys jumping on the bed when a woman with a little girl passed and joined me in the last line. We pointed at each other and crooned, "The doctor said, no more monkeys jumping on the bed." We laughed as she walked away grinning. The pharmacist gave me a questioning look.

There were three people in front of me in line. Patiently, I continued to bounce my brown bag. Before I realized it, a new tune had surfaced. This time it was The Wiggles' "Rock-a-bye Bear." I only remember my favorite lines so I quietly sang "La la la la la…hands in the air, rock-a bye bear, bears now asleep. Shhh shhh shhh, bear's now asleep. Shhh shhh shhh." At the shhhh part I put my index to my fingers to my lips…Shhh! The pharmacist looked concerned as he stared at me. I smiled at him and continued to rock my brown bag.

My grandkids' visits are way too short. My daughters both live plane rides away from us. When we have time together, it's like I won the lottery. In fact, if I win the lottery, I will buy a jet filled with toys and hire a personal pilot to jet us around for more visits.

Now my house is tidy (unless you move my furniture). The pots and pans are back in the cupboard. No more shrill clanging that runs bumps up my spine. The little bowls and spoons are tucked away. There's not a single toy to step on in my living room. Even the dogs have searched for a toy to munch on, to no avail. The net filled with Mickey and Minnie bath toys is tucked away in the toy box. The baby bath and lavender lotion are safely perched on a shelf. The musical books all have dead batteries from playing for hours. I have my morning coffee in peace now. There aren't little hands reaching to play or smear bananas on my legs.

It was finally my time to check out at the register. I paid $40.70 for batteries. The cashier asked what in the world was I going to do with all of these batteries…silly girl. "My grandkids will be back soon, and we have dancing to do," I said as I sniffled.

I stuffed them in my grocery bag and left the store. Then I cried all the way home.

- Anne Bardsley

Anne Bardsley, of St. Petersburg, Fla., is the author of How I Earned My Wrinkles, a collection of humorous and sentimental stories about marriage, motherhood and menopause. She lives in a menopausal world with a husband who gives her wrinkles. When people ask her age, she sometimes tells them her bra size. "36-C," she says, "was a wonderful age."