A hundred times I told him
a hundred times and more,
"Don't hit the dog, don't run away
don't throw that on the floor!"

All morning he was tireless
he never stopped to think
he broke my lamp, he spilled his milk
dumped the kitten in the sink.

He ran around the house all day
without a stitch of clothes
he flapped his hands and sang and cried
and fell and bumped his nose.

At dinner came the moment
when I'd simply had enough
he refused to eat his dinner
and that's when I got tough.

I sent him off to bed at once
despite his tearful pleas . . .
I let him cry himself to sleep
it brought me to my knees.

When silence fell upon his room
I slowly crept inside,
and gazing on my little son
I lost my foolish pride.

A hundred tears I wept right then
a hundred tears and more
for this little child who spilled his milk
on my nice bright shiny floor.

Who am I to scold my son
for things he cannot know?
he looks to me for patience
to help him learn and grow.

A hundred prayers I said that night
a hundred prayers and more
Help me Father, teach my child
this child that I adore.

And as I left his room that night
I kissed his tears away
and promised that tomorrow
would be a better day.