A Mother's Day

A Mother’s day




“Hurry up boys your going to be late for school,” I chimed while
grabbing their backpacks. I slipped on the first pair of shoes I could find
that were closest to the door. I looked up the stairway to see my boys
coming down the stairs as if they were going to a funeral instead of school.
If we were heading to Chuck-E-Cheese, they would be knocking each
other over to see who made it to the car first. I shook my head and sighed
as I continued out of the house, into the garage, and slipped behind the
steering wheel of the car and sat there. No sight of the boys. Just as I was
about to get out of the car, and go inside the house to give my morning
speech about how irresponsible being late is, they came through the doorway
at the same time. Hitting and slapping each other.
“Mom, Dylan spit on me,” my youngest son screeched.
“I did not, Shane’s a liar!” Dylan retaliated. “Just-get-in-the-car!” I
answered, emphasizing each word as if they were not familiar with the English
language. I backed out of the driveway and drove the 4 blocks to school in
break-neck speed, not that we were late, I just wanted to turn them over to
Glady’s wood Elementary.
I tell them the same thing every morning “Put your gloves on watch out for
the buses. I love you both!” No answer.
I think if they were to say “You have a pleasant day too Mom,” I would
be certain that aliens had taken over the bodies of my children and left
behind a polite, well-mannered child. That would seriously worry me.
On the drive home, I take my time. As I pull into the garage and walk
into the house, I stop! The silence is deafening. It almost irritates me. I
throw down my purse, and go to the computer to my check e-mail. I’m a
student, so I spend most of the morning studying. I have my coffee pot on
the table next to my desk, so I don’t waste anytime running upstairs for
another cup of coffee.
At noon, I gobble down a ham sandwich. I then proceed to clean the
house, while washing three loads of laundry.
I leave the house at 2:00PM to go get groceries. I try to buy only what’s
on the list, so I end up running around the store, like a marathon athlete. I
get home and put the groceries away. I fold my last load of laundry.
It’s 3:15PM, time to pick up the kids. They get into the car with the
same enthusiasm they had this morning. Once again same old comments and
questions. “Hi baby, how was your day?” I ask Dylan, with a smile on my
face.
“B-O-R-I-N-G,” Dylan replies. “Mom?’
“Yes honey?” I ask still smiling.
“I can’t wait until I’m grown up, so I can sit home and watch cartoons
all day like you do.”