Celebrating your mom

When you’re four-and-a-half, your approach to celebrating Mother’s Day is different than when your 38. For starters, you want it known that you are fractionally older than the most recent birthday would suggest.

Reid had told me that I was supposed to stay asleep the longest but, of course, I was the first one to wake up in our sub-zero cabin. I turned on the microfurnace and snuggled back into bed with Reid, who is a microfurnace herself. I love watching Reid sleep and wake; it’s on my top ten list of favourite mom things. When Reid did wake up, she immediately ordered me to go back to sleep. Ken suggested that she should wish me “Happy Mother’s Day” instead of being so bossy. I pretended to sleep just long enough for Reid to locate the card and present that she made for me. The card had an “M” inside a heart on it that reminded me of the Superman symbol. On the inside, Reid had printed “Maman”, scribbled a few rows of her interpretation of cursive, and then signed her name. As her present, she had drawn a picture of the two of us doing something we like to do together – jumping in puddles. It was very appropriate for our weekend!

Me, I signed on for the group present that Roger was organizing and let Grandma Joyce sleep late. I can’t remember the last time that I made her a card let alone drew her a picture. Do you suppose that I can take credit for arranging for Reid do these things?

Reid let me have the first turn when we played alphabet bingo in honour of Mother’s Day. Normally the first turn is reserved for the youngest. Surprisingly, Reid came up with this rule herself.

At supper, Reid asked me what glass I wanted and when I chose her favourite glass, she stifled her usual “but that’s the one I want”. She made sure Ken knew about her graciousness in letting me have it, though. That might make the act less generous …

In her greatest act of caring for me on Mother’s Day, Reid came into the bathroom where I was and shut the door behind her to “give me privacy”. I suggested that giving me privacy required that she leave the room. Reid gently but firmly told me I was wrong. Privacy is a relative thing. (Pun intended.)

In celebrated *my* mom by letting her use the bathroom solo all day long. I’m sure that there were years when this wasn’t the case. I bet she and I both would have given up our privacy in exchange for a hug and a cup of coffee together. Sometimes I feel every kilometer that lies between us. I sure hope Reid doesn’t move away from me!

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