It was my fault. I didn’t tell him. Well I did, but not early enough.
“How can you not know, dude?” I said. Now that he’s in high school, they don’t do Mother’s Day poems or cards, so the built-in reminder is long gone. Still, can you even turn on the television or go by a store without seeing MOTHER’S DAY SALE splashed across the front? “I bet even your smart phone knows it’s Mother’s Day.”
He snorts a “yeah right” in my direction and turns it on. Lo and behold, on the front screen it says, May 12, 2012 – Tomorrow is Mother’s Day!
“That’s it?” I said. “Eighteen hours of labor and all you can give me is “oh?”
“You should have raised me better.”
I ruffled his hair. I’m not upset. I kind of figured he’d forget, but why pass up an opportunity to give him a hard time? It’s one of the joys of parenting.
I spent Saturday evening at the bookstore (there is nothing I love more than bookstores) and when I got back, there were flowers in my office. I know my husband got them, but that’s okay. He neglected me on my first Mother’s Day and learned his lesson. It never happened again. He told my son to make a card, which he did, apparently under duress. It’s a sheet of typing paper. He’s written in pencil.
Happy Mother’s Day
You think I forgot…
How sweet, I’m thinking. He really played it cool. I feel guilty for giving him a hard time, even in jest, for forgetting Mother’s Day. I open the card, ready for something sweet like, you rock, or you’re awesome, or something like that. Nope.
…I did. Sorry.
All I have to say is Happy Mother’s Day.
He didn’t sign it.
I said thank you anyway. “Lovely flowers.”
“Dad bought them.”
I smiled at my husband.
“But he made me pay for them.”
I gave my husband the thumbs up. Then, my son walked over and gave me a hug, wearing the dopey smile he saves for me. “But I made the card myself.”
All in all, a pretty good day.
I’ve been graced twice again with the Leibster blog award. Recognition is always so lovely. So I owe some thank yous.
First, to Claudsy, poet, foodie and traveler. What doesn’t she do? Visit Claudsy’s Blog. You’ll see what I mean. It’s always a joy to find someone who loves language the way that she does. She’s both a reader’s writer and a writer’s writer. Hug a poet in her honor today. It’s a tough road to hoe–they could probably use one.
Second, to Sarah, who makes me want to move to Vermont so I can join Women Writing for Change. My friend Nina (if you haven’t seen her story on my blog, check it out, she’s an amazing woman) says that words are needles, which is so true. They can wound or heal. Sarah helps women use words to heal themselves, the community and the world.
Part of getting this lovely award is promising to pay it forward by nominating other blogs I love, and then they had to go and nominate all the blogs I love (especially Cindy at Everyday Underwear )! So I need to find more. So if you have a great blog I should check out, say so in my comments and I’ll give you a visit!
Words by J. B. Everett