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The Fun of Forgiving
Sometimes I’m almost glad to hear when I get
home that they’ve been bad;
And though I try to look severe, within my heart
I’m really glad
When mother sadly tells to me the list of awful
things they’ve done,
Because when they come tearfully, forgiving
them is so much fun.
I like to have them all alone, with no one near
to hear or see,
Then as their little faults they own, I like to take
them on my knee
And talk it over and pretend the whipping soon
must be begun;
And then to kiss them at the end forgiving
them is so much fun.
Within the world there’s no such charm as chil
dren penitent and sad,
Who put two soft and chubby arms around your
neck, when they’ve been bad.
And as you view their trembling lips, away your
temper starts to run.
And from your mind all anger slips forgiving
them is so much fun.
If there were nothing to forgive I wonder if
we’d love them so;
If they were wise enough to live as grown-ups
do, and always go
Along the pleasant path of right, with ne’er a
fault from sun to sun,
A lot of joys we’d miss at night forgiving
them is so much fun.
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