Lex and I were startled from our own Mother’s Day celebration by the sound of little fists pummeling our bedroom door. It’s not so easy to sneak up on us now that we’ve got our door dead bolted. And, no, that’s not extreme. No, just a latch wouldn’t do. Our little crafty demons would figure out an embarrassing time to practice their Houdini skills and walk right in on us. Personal space? Not our kids.
Lex and I found one with a remote. It has a keypad, a key, and a remote to use to lock and unlock the door. Under certain circumstances, it will also turn on the ceiling fan on high speed and the television with the volume all the way up. Boy, were we surprised the first time that happened!
Lex and I quickly donned our bathrobes to make ourselves presentable and unlocked the door. The pummeling stopped and a chorus of “Happy Mother’s Day” and “We made you breakfast!” sounded as Lorrie carefully negotiated her way past our quickly shed clothes we’d worn the night before.
We’d already had “that talk” with Lorrie, but it still unnerves me when she looks around at the strewn clothing and the rumpled bed and says, “Ew! Get a room!” No point in reminding her that this is our room.
We accepted the girls’ tribute and placed it on our bed. Once invited, Mel and Lorrie joined us and told us all about their cooking effort. Just then, my cell phone rang.
“Hi, Martha. Well thanks, and the same to you.”
“Oh, nice. Thanks for watching Eddie. Hm? Oh yeah…nice surprise. You were here when the girls were cooking? What was that? Oh…you just made sure they didn’t burn down the house, but pretty much stayed out of their way. Oh, it looks fine…I like dark meat. Bacon? Really? Well it smelled kind of like that. Oh ketchup is supposed to help the flavor.” Here, let me give you to Lex.”
I handed the phone off to Lex and gave each of our girls a hug. Then I took a closer look at breakfast. Peanut butter and jelly pancakes, burned bacon with Ketchup, not sure what the fruit slices were supposed to be, because they were covered in maple syrup.
It was like my sister, Jeannie’s cooking. The pancakes were runny, except for the big glob of peanut butter and jelly mixed together and deposited right smack in the middle of each pancake.
“You go first,” Lex whispered.
“Taste it, Mommy!” Mel was bouncing on her knees from excitement. Lex and I looked at each other and, resigned to our fate, we each took a fork and dug in.
Thank goodness for Alka Seltzer.
And mops and buckets.
And Freckles, who thinks pancake batter is delicious when licked off the floor, table legs, cabinet doors, and Mel’s face.
Mostly, I’m thankful for the beautiful smiles of our darling daughters who really wanted to make something special for their moms.
Life is good.
Now I need to run…really.