Mother's Day

"She walks in beauty, like the night!"

Lord Byron

It is still the toughest profession on earth, motherhood. It is clearly the longest career path. It starts with "mu,mu," progresses to "mama," to "mother," to "mom," to "grandmother," to "grandma," (pronounced GRAH mah) to "nana," with a whole bunch of pet names along the way.

The Mother I'm closest to is my wife.

 

And yeah, I call her Peggy, but I'll admit it today. I need a little "mothering" once in a while, and even though sometimes I think she resorts to some pretty "tough love," it is all for my "OWN GOOD!"

This is an exciting time for Peggy. The is the first time she spends Mother's Day as a GRANDMOTHER. She is out in Calfornia babysitting little Maren Noel.

But it is just like her. In the midst of feeding the baby, then singing her to sleep, and yelling at the dogs, she is worrried about her daughter Rhonda having to be away from her child on her first Mother's Day.

 

And, hey, I think she is worried about me and what I'm doing. Now that may be "did he remember to take out the trash,"  "did he straighten his collar," " did he wipe the toothpaste off his lips," "did he shut off even ONE LIGHT in the house," did he wash any clothes?" Well you get the gist of the moment.

I can be an independent cranky old guy. I can work up a very crusty attitude. I curse at stupid drivers, I make caustic remarks in the grocery store. I get dirty and don't clean up for days. Every once in a while I spit.  And I love this new study that says you'll live longer if you regularly expel gas. But do you know what?

When she is not here?

 

I MISS MY MOMMY!