May 12, 2013

Momma and Me Day

Yesterday, Daughter 1 left town with the orchestra to go to a contest and amusement park. At 6:15 as she and Brian were leaving the house, I muttered an "I love you" and something about being safe from my bed where I was still dozing.

A few hours later, Brian loaded up the RAV with his spicy nuts and set out for Arkansas for his Listen To Your Mother read-through. PS--Spicy nuts are not a euphemism for anything ... they were to bring a snack to share.  But, in the tradition of TMI, spicy is an appropriate adjective. #Truth



That left Daughter 2 and me with the day to ourselves. It was to be a day to ourselves after my book event, of course, during which she did no less than twenty-three dozen cartwheels, sighed forty-three times and reminded me of the time every thirty-seconds when I went over the stop time.

"I thought this was going to me a Momma and Me day," she growled when we finally loaded up and left.

"It is, baby girl. The rest of the day is ours! And I know exactly what we're going to do--we're going to spray paint that step-ladder that hangs out by our front door and we're going to spray paint the milk can," I said in my best this-day-is-gonna-be-great-dadgumit voice.

"Who's going to do the actual spray-painting, Momma?" my little sceptic asked in a tone that allowed me to actually hear her italicize my name.

"You."

The day turned on a dime. She was the happiest kid when we picked out the color "Pistachio" to paint the step ladder and raced home to change into our spray-painting clothes. I handed her the can of primer and, just so I wouldn't be tempted to boss her around while she spray painted, I mowed the lawn. I got two swipes done when I turned to check on my future graffiti artist to find her lying flat on the driveway. I turned the lawnmower off.

"You okay?" I called, hoping she hadn't sniffed the fumes of an upside down can and gotten high. Why or WHY hadn't I given her more instructions??

"I'm fine," she said raising up on one elbow. "I just realized that you must really like to spray paint and here I am on the day before Mother's Day, doing it for you."

Awww--what a sweetie. "It's alright," I said walking toward her. "You can do it. I'm really very fine with that."

She sat all the way up. "Plus, my finger is cramping."

"You can take a break," I encouraged.

"And," she sighed, "I don't want to do it anymore."

I finished the project on my own as she lay in the driveway catching some rays before calling her Nana to come and get her for the rest of the day.



Indeed, Happy Mothers Day to me.

And, of course, Happy Mothers Day to you, too!

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