I was oblivious, absent minded, dangerously curious, and constantly getting into things. I hear the stories everytime the family gathers and wonder, “who the heck are they talking about?” My brother likens me to the female Dennis the Menace. I often think my mom must really be Beverly Cleary because the Romona the Pest books seem way too familiar.
If I wasn’t sticking tweezers into light sockets or overloading electrical outlets by stringing together too many Christmas lights, I was trying to be the first to reach the power lines behind the tree in our backyard.
There was a time I loved worms. I’d find them and put them in my coat pocket. My mom would find them later all crispy.
Taking kids shopping is normally a challenge and I was no different. If I wasn’t hiding in clothes racks, I was leaving my shoes in front of a display toilet where I had taken a poo.
My mom learned that new clothes shopping was senseless. I had my favorite clothes I wore every single day regardless of the numerous other clothes hanging in my closet.
She bought me a new coat once. It was a really pretty. I gave my friends a ride around on the asphalt with it. They would sit and I would pull. We laughed so hard. But we also tore huge holes in it.
I paid a boy my lunch money to give me a kiss once. Yep, I paid a quarter for my first kiss. He lived across the street and his big brother came over to tell my parents.
When my mom found out I was hiding behind the boys bathroom door at school I am sure the names of boarding schools ran through her mind. Especially since I’d just paid a boy to kiss me.
My mom was the nurturing one, always comforting me in my illness and injuries. I didn’t get hurt often, but when I did, she was there.
She was there when I ran a fever and started hallucinating that dancing potatoes were being tortured by toothpicks. She slept in my room when I was healing from having cut my toe off.
She was there when I stepped on a beer bottle and needed stitches.
Then I became pretty independent. I didn’t need my mom much. But in my 30’s I discovered I had a brain tumor. It was my mom who took care of my recovery after the brain surgery. She let me sleep, fed me lunch, and watched Toy Story 1,2 and 3 with me.
When I had to go back to work after my daughter was born she helped me. She was there to help watch my daughter for her first 9 months.
When needed, she is always there.
Now that I have my own daughter, the fights and disagreements we had have more clarity. I am blessed to have a daughter who is NOT oblivious nor absent minded. She is smart and truly God’s gift. I don’t know how I got so lucky to get off so easy because I wasn’t easy to raise.
Happy Mother’s Day Mom!!!!!
nice!!!!! 🙂 Happy mothers day
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Awwwwh I still love that pic of little-girl you looking so mischievous
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I’m so glad you were a little girl, even if you were a difficult one. Because now you’re YOU, and my dear sweet friend.
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Oh my goodness! I am dying over here about the poo in the display toilet! Yes, it sounds like you were a handful. Who would have thought, sweet Hasty, that you could be so full of mischief ;)!
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You, difficult? I can’t imagine – well, OK, maybe I can since you write it so well. Happy Mother’s Day to you and your Mom.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Hasty brings a Mother’s Day thanks to her mom. It is beautiful.
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