Ode to my mom

Weeks back there was a contest on a blog I read to write a Haiku about your mother. I thought long and hard and this is what I came up with:

We’re a lot alike
Cleaning anything with spit
Spitting images

I can’t believe I didn’t win.

For the record, I lied. But I thought it was funny and rather clever. Spit cleaning is something I didn’t inherit from my mother. I don’t clean anythingwith spit. People who know me know that spit is about the grossest thing to me in the world. Worse than poop-filled diapers. Worse than vomit. I gag when I see drool coming out of a child’s mouth. I remember times when the ole thumb licking would happen. Can’t remember any exact instances, but I remember the sensation. Getting ready to go somewhere, obviously important, and having a smudge of something on my face. That smudge had to go. The tongue would lick the thumb and then proceed to wipe the top layer of skin off my face. It’s a time-honored tradition that I will not be passing down.

The cleverness, however, is something I directly attribute to my mother. It’s a Rinehardt thing. I got her sense of humor and joie de vivre and am enjoying passing those down to my girls. Whenever the Rinehardts get together it’s a free-for-all of laughs and witty remarks. There’s nothing in life that they can’t take and find some bit of humor out of. I cherish inheriting that from Mom. Life is so much more easier to handle when you can put it in perspective.

So, thank you, Mom for passing down to me your wit. Oh, and your looks because people do always say we look alike. In that way we are spitting images. 

Feb 2007

OH! Props to Heather who comes up with haikus almost every Friday. It’s hard. Rock on.