For my mama on Mothers' Day, a top ten list of my favourite things about her.
For the record, there are more than ten things I love about her. Also, the top ten list would likely to change on any given day, but for today, this is what I came up with.
In no particular order:
That she doesn't really care about Mothers' Day - that she knows I love her and appreciate her and she doesn't need a "special" day to prove it. And that even though it's her special day, she still treated Hubby and I to a nice dinner.
That she didn't keep any of my stupid childhood arts and crafts. Ok, so maybe there's the occasional paper project, but a couple of years ago she made me take all my shit out of her house, so if there were any such keepsakes I probably have them buried in my own basement now.
Her laugh. Hysterical and contagious. And often accompanied by a devilish grin.
That she always has chocolate. In the form of bars or cake or ice cream sandwiches.
That she's always got my back. Even when I'm anxious and depressed, and even though it's hard to fathom what I'm going through, she still listens and offers to help - despite the fact that nothing really helps. Or when we're racing to the car and I slip on the ice, falling ass-over-teakettle onto my back, and she laughs hysterically. Oh, wait... what?
That she's an expert snake sticker.
That she made me promise to tell her if she ever became one of those slow old person drivers. And that a few weeks ago, when I had to gently point out that she was going 30 km/h in a 50 zone, she just said "Oh!", laughed, and stepped on the gas.
That she predicts the end of every movie. And that she's almost always right.
That when I was little she would wrap me in dryer-warm towels. And that when I complained I couldn't sleep because my feet were too hot, she would get a cold wet facecloth and drape it over my little toes sticking out the end of the blankets.
That on my wedding day (and every other day, for that matter) she took care of everything. And that when I was freaking out, she was cool as a friggin cucumber, walking me down the aisle with one hand holding mine, and one hand in the pocket of her black mini dress.