Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day

Things Mom Would Never Say

• "How on earth can you see the TV sitting so far back?"
• "Yeah, I used to skip school a lot, too"
• "Just leave all the lights on ... it makes the house look more cheery"
• "Let me smell that shirt -- Yeah, it's good for another week"
• "Go ahead and keep that stray dog, honey. I'll be glad to feed and walk him every day"
• "Well, if Katelyn's mom says it's OK, that's good enough for me."
• "The curfew is just a general time to shoot for. It's not like I'm running a prison around here."
• "I don't have a tissue with me ... just use your sleeve"
• "Don't bother wearing a jacket - the wind-chill is bound to improve"

The Great Egg Hunt of 2011

When I finally caught up, life seems to have passed me by.

It's seven in the evening the day before Easter. The sun still barely hangs in the sky. Tomorrow, we head over to my father's house for another Easter Sunday and my daughter who is excited about the whole egg hunt will probably be a little less interested next year and maybe just half-heatedly into it the year after.

And this is it. This is the crescendo of the child years. This is me being a kid for a second time in my life. The last real Easter. Maybe, I should tie a string around the hinge of my den door so that when I pass it I'll remember this day - the day before the egg hunt.

I'll soon forget about the string and years later when I'm moving out of this house or maybe when I'm packing up the Maddie's things, I'll see the string and think of this day and this moment.

Things are far from perfect, but they're good enough. Good enough to remember this point - if life were a video game, I'd save it right here even with all the mistakes and missed bonuses. This level is worth playing again.

Tomorrow is the great the hunt and the candy and prizes and eating together and then it will be over and all that will be left is that string tied to the hinge of the door to my den.