Tomorrow

“When will it open?”, asked the son.
“Tomorrow.”, replied the mother.
“But I want it to open today!”, demanded the son.
“Not the right time.”, replied the mother.
And the son was sent out to play.

“When will it open all the way?”, asked the son.
“Tomorrow.”, replied the mother.
“But I want it to open all the way today!”, demanded the son.
“Not the right time.”, replied the mother.
And the son was sent out to play.

“When will it be over?”, asked the son.
“Tomorrow.”, replied the father.
“But I don’t want her to go!”, demanded the son.
“It’s her time.”, replied the father.
And the son was sent out to pray.

“When do we toss these flowers?”, asked his wife.
“Tomorrow.”, replied the son.
“But there’s nothing left of them!”, demanded his wife.
“Not the right time.”, replied the son.
And the son knelt down, to pray.

Morbidly inspired by Sunday Scribblings #283: “Tomorrow“, and recent personal events.