It’s not a candle. Or a necklace. Or even a really nice bag (although I wouldn’t refuse it). Here’s a short list of a what I actually want for Mother’s Day:
A couple of uninterrupted hours to read, without stopping after every other paragraph.
And if that happens, to be able to spontaneously fall asleep and stay that way until I wake up on my own.
A day where not one conversation directed at me begins with the words “Can you. . . ?” or “Can I . . . ?” (I don’t think it’s humanly possible, but just throwing it out there.)
For my teenage boy to kiss me.
To eat an entire meal without someone calling for bathroom “assistance.”
And for dessert, a large Wendy’s Frosty (chocolate, not vanilla).
To not set foot in the kitchen all day long, but to return the next day to a sparkling clean space.
To feel a lot of sweet little arms hugging my neck.
For all of my people to be happy, happy, happy!
To watch consecutive episodes of Jeopardy and Judge Judy without pausing and/or rewinding continuously throughout. (Yes, I know I sound 83.)
What do you really want for Mother’s Day?
PS– Honestly, I can’t think of Mother’s Day gifts without thinking of The Middle and the time Frankie got a yellow, inflatable foot bath. (Please tell me you watch and are as sad as we are about the soon approaching end.)
PPS– A few other posts on motherhood you might enjoy: