I’m not too picky when it comes to Mother’s Day presents. Gifts don’t matter to me as much as service does around this time of year. I must say though that last year a gift mattered a whole lot and I went so far as to aggressively hint to Du about what I wanted.
I opened up the Red Envelope catalog to the proper page, circled the two necklaces I would accept as peace offerings for just having had child number two who was way different than child number one. I placed this strategically in Du’s inbox because that’s how we communicate with each other, through inboxes of the physical and electronic kind. The next day the magazine was laying in my inbox. Opened to that page. With two necklaces circled on it. So I put it back in his inbox. The next day it was back in my inbox.
Realizing that subtle hints weren’t going to work I took the magazine upstairs, threw it down on his lap (gently, don’t picture me ticked off…yet), said, “hint, hint” and walked away. Fortunately these shenanigans happened far enough in advance that this was waiting for me on Mother’s Day:
“Why honey! How did you ever guess?!?! And the stones are the correct color and in the correct order!!”
I digress though traveling down that memory lane. I wanted to write about this year’s Mother’s Day present. I was saying that gifts aren’t as important to me this year as would be an act of service. I was thinking I might get a massage. Breakfast in bed. A night at a fancy hotel all by myself with room service free movies and no alarm clocks or screaming hungry kids to wake me up. BUT what I got was even better than that. I got…
I hate to do this to you, but this post is getting way too long! Tune in tomorrow for the next installment.