Happy Day After Mother’s Day.
I went to church and was fed breakfast by men.
Don’t let anyone tell you that childbirth is necessary to relish the perks of Mother’s Day.
I’ve discovered that Mother’s Day is an awkward day. It’s a day that people tend to feel sorry for me because I’m childless. I sense pity vibes all around. But please don’t feel sorry for me. I’m a non-mother by choice. And it will suit me fine to live without any lecture right now if you are hankering to give me one. Please. I’ve heard them all, “Whose going to take care of you when you’re old?” “You’ll never truly know what love is” “Having kids is the greatest joy.” “The pleasures outweigh the heartaches” Blah, blah, blah.
Last year I was honored at church on Mother’s Day. My niece secretly wrote a letter, not on her own accord, but because she was asked. Then the pastor read it aloud without saying who it was addressed to, and I was called forced to the platform with Ashlynn. I wasn’t the only one who was honored of course, and it was kind of fun to try to figure out for whom each letter was written. Here’s my letter. I have it hanging in my bedroom:
Well, maybe not.
And I do realize that it says “only come in the big house” because I like to pretend I live in a mansion. Sometimes I push a pretend button at the supper table to talk to Jason in a speaker. I pretend he’s at the other end of a fancy banquet table, waaaay down there. Really he’s right beside me, so close I can jab his hand with my fork, which I do on occasion. But it’s fun for me. I push the button and bend closely, “Jason, will you please pass the butter?”
Self amusement, people. If I don’t do it, nobody else will.
Maybe karaoke is misspelled on the rule chart too, but I was too lazy to look it up for a bunch of eleven year olds who probably couldn’t read it anyway.
Karaoke, crafts, Wii, dancing, music, snacks, and games all night long.
Fun was had by all, including me, who got a full 8 hours of sleep.
Nyquil—the so you can rest during a sleepover medicine.
I’m all ready to do it again.
In about 6 more years.
Sleepover = Success!
oh no…did I rub off on you with the multi colored markers/pens??? 🙂
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Ha! I'm afraid you've rubbed off on me in more ways than that!
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that letter reeks of anniebelle.
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