That’s my mom. Look how pretty she is. That picture was taken last year, when she was a young girl of 50.
Look! There she is again at my wedding party:
I’ve never in my life seen someone else’s mom and thought, “Man, I wish she was my mom!” That means in real life, in books or TV. She always thinks of everything and she’s the best mom I’ve ever seen.
Here’s an anecdote about her that might seem trivial, but it sums up what it means to be a mom.
Last summer the K family decided to take a family vacation to Virginia to see some civil war battle grounds, Mount Vernon, and Monticello.
Here we are in front of George Washington’s house at Mount Vernon (yes, my sister and I are wearing fanny packs, matching Sea World San Diego shirts and matching Target sandals that we got at Goodwill for 50 cents. They were new.):
Back to the story. I was packing the cooler full of water bottles, lunch meats, and diet wild cherry pepsis when my mom walked over.
“Make sure you know where you’re packing the pepsi because you won’t be able to find them once everything’s packed up and we’re in the car.”
I huffed and rolled my eyes a little, then I generally disregarded the advice because I was busy.
One mile down I-70 and I decide I’m thirsty. I try to turn around, but there are so many pillows and bags in the back seat that I can’t get much leverage on the cooler. Once I finally get it open my arm is bent in such a way that I can’t go digging around, and there’s so much stuff behind the seats that I can’t even see in the cooler.
I couldn’t find my pepsi. I didn’t pack them in a place I could easily reach them and I couldn’t find them because the cooler was too big and too full. Mom was right again. She’s always right! Even if it’s about a can of pepsi!
If I had one of those “I heart NY” shirts with “I heart mom” on it instead, I’d wear it!