Mothers with Balls
Sharon May 11th, 2008
Overheard this morning at my house of five males and me. Isaiah, in a stage whisper to Simon, “Mommy has all the balls in this house.”
Response - rueful grin from Mommy (who really had taken all the balls away after several incidents of aggressive use), hysterical laughter from Daddy, four pairs of confused little eyes.
…………………………………………………………………..
At our house, Mother’s Day is largely about two things. 1. Mommy gets to sleep in all she wants (and this is a huge gift) and 2. the boys pick Mommy out a big basket of flowers to hang by the main entrance to the house. Mommy used to pick this basket herself, but now the expenditure has been transferred to the category of “Mother’s Day gift” which means that Mommy whispers futiley to Daddy as he takes the boys into the greenhouse “Please steer them away from the hot pink impatiens….”
Daddy says, ”Ok, I definitely will.” Note that this statement actually means “I have no idea what impatiens look like” and since he is mildly pink/orange colorblind meant a virtually 100% chance I will receive a large basket of hot pink impatiens, with five delighted smiles and an explanation of how Asher knew they were just what I wanted.
And it turns out, when presented like that, they were. Mostly 
.
………………………………………………………………………..
I should write a rousing post here, about how Mother’s Day should be a day for Moms to riot in the streets against all the factors that threaten to steal our children’s future. And I’m all for that, except that y’all are going to have to riot without me, because I’ve got to finish the book. But I trust you to take care of the world’s problems - and I promise I’ll help out next year. After all, I’m reliably informed that Mommies got balls.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Sharon