Another Mother’s Day another dis by the Dyson fairy.
Surprisingly, I am not at all disappointed by the snub. In fact, of the six Mother’s Days I have had the honor of celebrating with my daughter, this may have been the best ever.
The day started out with a series of hugs, kisses, and this gem:
Six-year-old: Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!
Me: Thank you, honey!
Six-year-old: You’re the best Mommy in the whole world.
Me: Thank you. I wouldn’t be celebrating Mother’s Day if it weren’t for you.
Six-year-old: Yup.
Me: I wouldn’t even be a mommy if it weren’t for you.
Six-year-old: If you weren’t my mommy I would just be a stray kid.
In addition to the laughs, I was also gifted with a cookbook, some clothes, flowers, brunch at my favorite hotel and a nice dinner. However, the present I will cherish long after today was a card made by my daughter that read:
“Happy Mothers Day! Your Better then chocolate! XO!! You smell like roses. Your tase is so minty. Your glasses are so bright. Your ring is so shiney. Your hart is a red one! I love you and I love your grnolas!”
It’s hard to think that an overpriced vacuum could top that.
There’s little that could, which is why I don’t quite understand the concept of “me time” on Mother’s Day. After gorging on a delectable Sunday brunch some of the moms we were dining with wanted to spend the rest of the day at the mall minus the kids. I was invited to join them, but declined. Why would I want to spend a brilliantly sunny Mother’s Day afternoon without my child? The sole reason any woman is fortunate enough to celebrate the day is because she was gifted with a life to rear.
I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Mother’s Day than by spending time with the person who made this day the best one ever.
Can you?