When I come up behind you and I hug
You tight to me and kiss your neck and bug
You when you're washing dishes, that's my thanks.
When I come grab you, kiss you, hug you when
You're washing, drying, folding clothes, it's then
In all my actions that I'm giving thanks.
I do not always say it in the rush
Of children, work, and noise -- there is no hush
When I can be so thoughtful to speak, "Thanks."
So I apologize for every time
That I so thoughtlessly commit the crime
Of failing to say what I feel: my thanks.
I thank you for my children. Thanks for all
You do. I thank you for your random call
That says you love me too. For that, my thanks.