Mother’s Day is Like a Box of Chocolates

Mother’s Day is coming up. I can tell because my kids keep asking me what I want for a present. Or rather, what they hope I want because it’s what they want to buy me.

“Mom, what do you want for Mother’s Day? Say ‘a Soda Stream.’”

“Mumma, you want a box of Godiva chocolates, right? That’s that kind that you like? Say yes.”

I would bet my knock-off boots there are a Soda Stream and a box of Godiva chocolates in the closets of this house. If I get too hungry or thirsty, I may go snooping in advance of the holiday.

What my kids don’t know is that I really don’t care about presents. It’s nice that they take the time to think of what I might like, make my husband take them to the old-lady part of the mall, and spend their own baby sitting/job money on me. But what I really, really want is that stuff you can’t get at Bed, Bath, and Beyond.I want a time machine, so I can go back for one last sniff of their little baby heads.

I want one more necklace made of macaroni and yarn.

I want one more eyeliner pencil ruined because it was used to write “I lof u mom” on the wall.

I want all six of us around the dinner table, instead of empty chairs.

I even want “Are we there yet?” from the back of the minivan, which is saying something.

Since I can’t have any of these things, I’ve decide to enjoy what I do have now.

I’ve got grown sons who call me to talk about their jobs and roommate problems.

I’ve got one more driver on long trips.

I’ve tripled my nail polish selection. Teen girls have the good stuff!

I’ve got these smart, interesting, big people to talk to about books, movies, and life in general. I appreciate what we have in common, and the beliefs we hold which are different.

So, yeah, I’m a pretty lucky woman. And I don’t need a new small appliance to know they love me.

But I will take that box of chocolates anyway.