Another Mother's Day has come and gone--one more victory for Hallmark. My feeling is: love your mother. Love her every day if she has been a good mother, and distance yourself from her if she hasn't been, unless, of course, there are financial considerations at play.
Jonathan called me in the morning, before 10, which is pretty remarkable for him. He said all the cards he found were crap, and I told him that I'd rather hear his voice than read a card from him any day. He's a big ole puppy dog and I love him.
Michael made me blueberry pancakes and bacon, served in bed, which is usually where we eat breakfast unless we have company. We could still serve it in bed, I suppose, since it's a king, but there's less chance of spillage if we sit at the table.
Later, he put two more chickens on the grill and then made potato salad and a tossed salad. He wouldn't let me do anything. All day we expected that Ben would be joining us for dinner, but he made a curry for himself and some friends and then I took him to their house. He apologized on the way, but said that he thought Michael and I would enjoy having dinner alone. I assured him that I wouldn't take it as a personal affront. He's also a big ole puppy dog, and I love him madly.
I stopped on the way back and picked up two pints of Ciao Bella gelato from Giant: one "Tahitian Vanilla" and the other "Blood Orange." I also bought a pretty traditional-looking blackandwhite cookie. After dinner, I dished us up a high-end creamsickle with half a blackandwhite. It was scrumptious, and Michael actually watched almost the entire two hours of the finale of "The Amazing Race," which he doesn't even like. That's true love. (The pretty card and the orchid plant didn't hurt, either.)
It was a good day, if not exactly the Mother's Day of everyone's dreams. Except for a little afternoon research paper grading, though, it was pretty close to perfect for me.
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