Fold My Laundry Please

Mother’s Day:  A Poem

by Lady Laundry

*ahem*

M, is for the many things you gave me.

O, is for the other things you gave me.

T, is for the terrific things you gave me.

H, is for the hundreds of things you gave me.

E, is for everything you gave me.

R, is for the rotten things you gave me.

Put them all together and they spell MOTHER!

Thank you!  Thank you!  Poetry is something that just comes very naturally to me.  It’s a gift that I simply must share with the world. 

This Mother’s Day I did something I love to do.  I stuffed my face with pancakes that someone else made, served, and cleaned up after!  We decided to break the Sabbath (I know! Didn’t I learn anything the last time I did that and was smited with food poisoning?) and try out a pancake house here in town that has been calling my name everytime I drive past it.

The kids were very well behaved the entire time.  They played quietly as we waited for our table.  They sat and drew lovely works of art on those magnetic drawing thingys while we waited for our food.  And they demolished their meals nearly the instant they were set down in front of them.  It was great!  

See?  Look at how happy I am that I get to have delicious blueberry pancakes!  With freshly made blueberry syrup!  

They were every bit as yummy as I had imagined they would be!

Seeing as how she has no teeth yet (And honestly, where are those teeth anyway?  She’s eight months old now.  I’m kind of tired of the flash fevers and cranky attitude!), Aubrey sat in the high chair and happily played with a spoon the entire time.

She also did what she does best, which is flash those non-existent pearly whites and charm the pants off of strangers.  All the children were exceptionally, charming that day.  So charming that I came off as the perfect mother, and really, isn’t that the best Mother’s Day gift? 

How charming were they, you ask? 

One woman eating there at the restaurant was so impressed with my children that she walked up to our table as she was leaving, patted me on the back, and said, "Are ALL THESE CHILDREN yours?  I only have one and I can barely manage with that!  I would like to buy your drink for you.  Happy Mother’s Day!"  Then she slipped me a five dollar bill and walked out of the building. 

I sat there, stunned, staring at the money for a minute.  "Was I just tipped?  Did she…  Did she just tip me for being a mom?"  Andrew was just as baffled by it as I was.  I suddenly felt like I should give the money back.  Five dollars was much too much to accept from some stranger, but she was long gone by the time I got over my shock enough to do anything.  

And so, I’m now five dollars richer than I was before Mother’s Day rolled around.  Jealous much?  I’m thinking that maybe I’ll start carrying around a tip jar wherever I go.  Perhaps I’ll put one of those "Donate" buttons up on my blog.  I wouldn’t want to alienate those of you intent on throwing money at me, but sadly unable to get to my tip jar. 

Motherhood.  It’s just one of the many services I perform for my adoring public. 

If you don’t want to tip cash, you could at least click on Humor-Blogs.com to help my ratings out a bit!  Jeez!