I woke to the smell of cooking eggs and muffins.
“Don’t look, mama!!” is screamed at me.
Plates made of goofy writing and coffee cups with smiling pictures adhered carefully are as good as gift of gold.
The sun shines down on gleaming smiles and freshly scrubbed faces.
“He’s touching me!”
“She used my blue legos!”
The worst tragedies ever.
We manage lunch with grandmas that do not end in bloody messes.
Chicken! Corn-on-the-cob! Cole slaw! Maiming! Destruction!
Naptime finally arrives.
“I wanna have a lemonade stand!”
“I wanna play <insert gaming system here>!”
I run…RUN….one-legged….to the nap.
Night will come with bedtime and little dragging feet.
The kids hug so hard to avoid the bed. That’s alright, I’ll take advantage.
“I need a drink,” They declare a hundred times.
“i need to go potty,” They declare a hundred and one.
They finally sleep and I get to work. Yawning means work is over for the night.
I head my chair off to bed, and am surprised at what I find.
Kids comfy, cozy, sleeping in my bed.
Happy Mother’s Day to me.