Mama's Day

For Mother's Day, the boys went golfing, leaving Mae and I free to do whatever our hearts so desired. 

First, we planted yet another flower garden.  It turned out beautifully.  In the middle of pouring on the mulch, Mae said, "Mom, I might write you a song for Mother's Day."  I am a sucker for anything sentimental that I can extract from my children and hold dearly for the rest of my living days, so this pretty much melted my heart.  Until she said, "I'll name it 'I Farted in Your Garden.'"  Never mind.

Next, we gorged ourselves on chocolate and ice cream.  This is what girls secretly do when boys are not around. 

We cleaned the Jeep out. We washed the Jeep. We vacuumed the Jeep.  We even fixed the broken vacuum at the car wash.

Finally, we ended up at the Firth park.  This is a park we had never ever been to before.  There was nobody else there.  I immediately scoped out my hiding place.  I climbed underneath the slide with a full packet of sunflower seeds.  Mae was already playing crazily.  I like to hide in case other kids show up.  It's not the kids I'm afraid of; it's the parents.  Sometimes they talk to me.  A mother once sat for at least fifteen minutes talking to me about couponing.  I understand that saving money is necessary when you're on a budget, but this woman was insane about it.  She told me that she spends "literally hours and hours" each week scouring the internet for deals and clipping coupons from newspapers.  She told me that I'd be amazed at how much money she saved.  I was more amazed at how much time she wasted.  Hours and hours per week adds up to weeks and weeks, eventually months and months, perhaps even years and years.  When did we lose track of what's really important?  Time.  Say it with me:  "TIME."  And she wasted fifteen minutes of my time to tell me how much money she saves.  So now, I hide. 

Underneath the slide,  I could hear the man across the street mowing his yard and then the sound of a train in the background.  It was really the opportune time for something incredible to happen, like an epiphany of some sorts.  I thought as hard as I could, knowing wholeheartedly that something nobody had ever thought of would creep into my brain.  But all I could come up with was, "I wonder who invented socks?..."  And to make things worse, I pondered this for an incredibly ridiculous amount of time.  I came up with questions about socks that I'm too embarrassed to even depict here.  I pondered so long that I heard three trains pass.  Then, I realized that the lawnmower had stopped.  It was nearly silent, except for this annoying kid that kept saying, "Help, help, Mommy, heeelp!"  God, whose kid is that, anyway? 

I finally snapped out of my daze with a notion to make 'mean eyes' at whatever parent it was that was ignoring their kid.  That's when I noticed that we were still the only ones at the park and it was my kid.  My sweet little Mae had somehow shoved herself into a baby swing and got stuck, one leg sticking out the front and one leg sticking out the back.  It was quite a sight and I wondered if I might have enough time to retrieve the camera from the Jeep and snap a picture before I helped her.  I decided against it because she was already suspended mid-air in an uncomfortable position.  She had her arms crossed over her chest, giving me the evil eye that said if I didn't help her right away, I would pay for it in high-pitched whines.  I helped her out, then bought her a soda.  Mom of the Year right here, that's right.