We have a very busy weekend planned – of course, because it’s
Mother’s Day – which starts early tomorrow morning, where at precisely
8:45 a.m., I will be planting flowers at one of our neighborhood
playgrounds with Mini-Me’s girl scout troop.
Why?
Well, because my little Daisy is earning a badge, or something, I
think, or maybe not…all I know is that the notice specifically stated
– PARENTS HELP!
Guess which one?
So, I’ll just pretend it’s just another school day – ignore the fact
that it is really a Saturday, with no baseball, soccer, volleyball, or
anything – and, you know, drag my kids out of the house, kicking and
screaming.
Why me?
Well, Daddy won’t be home – because somebody’s gotta work, right? –
and I’ve grown accustomed to running a pretty tight ship, have never
been one to admit that I needed help and probably wouldn’t know what to
do with myself, if I really did choose to take advantage of free time,
if I had any.
What?
Having spent most of the week outside cutting grass – in between
those times I was, you know, pretending to work – it’s hard to ignore
the fact that the poop decks need a swabbing and the crow’s nest is
starting to smell, well, sort of like wet Doofus-dog.
Given the choice, I’d rather be planting.
So, I won’t get to sleep in tomorrow morning – big whoop! – or,
probably not on Sunday, either, because both my husband and I have
mommies to visit and, either way, I can’t think of a better way to
celebrate Mother’s Day than perhaps petitioning the holiday-gods that A
DAY OFF ON A SATURDAY, for my man and me, would be nice.
Because there’s no school on Sunday and – just like the Bangles said – it’s our I don’t have to run day!
And the closest I want to get to having to attend a sporting
event is watching it from the comfort of my own couch, in my pajamas,
with a cold beverage and plenty of snacks, because, as far as I’m
concerned, there is no such thing as too much down-time and absolutely
NO dieting on weekends.
I’ve often said to, well, anyone who is silly enough to hang around
long enough to listen is that I would make one mother of a husband!
[hocks a goober and hogs remote]
"Can I get you anything?"
[scratches]
"Naw, I’m good and heading out to hammer up a couple of loose boards on the house."
[lip quivers]
"What’d I say?"
[starts to turn and walks out]
"I like to feel needed, too, you know."
Oh, I know and – though, he really doesn’t sound (or, isn’t) that
needy – my husband knows that I couldn’t do half the stuff that I
do…um…do, if it weren’t for his calm, cool, collected and accepting
nature.
Total opposites really do attract.
So, this Mother’s Day I would like to acknowledge my husband.
Because the man can (and has) stepped into Mommy’s shoes at a
moment’s notice and is still able to keep his manhood intact.
So, Happy Mother’s Day, Hon ’cause your one Mother of a
hubby…and don’t worry about your wallet…that you forgot on your
dresser – because, I know that you were very distracted with making the
kids’ lunches this morning and running late – I’m headed out now to
bring them to you and will even buy you lunch.
After I shave my legs, of course!