If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s this:
When I come home to my parents’ house, whether it’s from North Carolina, Pennsylvania, or Cleveland, I can always count on my mom standing at the front door, her shoulders pulled up around her smiling face as she holds her arms out and says, “Oh! Hi, my Hooty!”
And then I hug her, and she starts asking me if I want anything to eat. 🙂 She’s truly a great mom.
When I was little, I wanted to be like her, to drink coffee out of McDonald’s cups and to paint my nails. So we initiated “Girl Talk” once a week, and she would buy me a hot chocolate (in the McDonald’s cup) and paint my nails. I wonder how obnoxious I was then, and wonder how she could bear to play along with me like that all the time. But then I remember that she’s a darn good mom.
So here’s a list of some of the things I love about my mom (not all of them, of course, because I don’t have that kind of time!):
– “Hi, my Hooty!”
– Girl Talk nights.
– Her ability to extinguish my anxiety.
– The way she waves goodbye from the kitchen window any time my brother, my father, or I leave.
– That her first grade picture looks identical to mine.
– Her excitement about McDonald’s coffee (all 3 of ’em a day 😉 )
– How she always did without so that her kids could have more than they deserved.
– The way she won’t “let” you go to sleep without saying “I love you.”
– Her chicken crescent squares.
– The way she sneaks money into my account sometimes–EVEN THOUGH SHE DOESN’T NEED TO.
– That I can tell her anything.
– How two beers makes her tipsy.
– That she’s the best euchre partner around.
– That she still takes “Little Man” off her drinks sometimes. Ha ha!
– Her hands. I want her hands.
– Her willingness to help people, even when she’s burnt out.
– Her patience, with me, and with life in general.
– That she goes to Bon Jovi concerts with me.
– That she sends me cards, even though I’m only an hour and a half away.
– Our Christmas shopping trips.
– The names of the colors she puts in her hair.
I love most that I see her in me. I do things and think, “That’s what mom does” or “Wow, I did that just like her.” But there’d be nothing better than turning out like her.
I know you read this sometimes, so I love you, Mom!