We moms hear whispers around special days. Clandestine conversations, encouragements and ideas of what the other family members are planning for surprises. We try not to hear, attempt to pretend ignorance, but I always seem to fail miserably. My husband revels in trying to figure out secrets about gifts for him and even takes pride in knowing before the big reveal, but I try to play along with the ruse. This Mother's Day was no different.
While preparing for our somewhat usual Friday night family dinner, there were sneaky whispers. At one point, I hear my dear hubby asking my youngest what he was going to do for his mother on Mother's Day. Not too long after, here he comes into my craft room where I was working at my desk. He doesn't say anything, just looks up intently at all the displayed Star Wars action figures, deep in thought.
"Mom," he says finally, "you need an old Ben. You don't have an old Ben, do you?"
No, I don't have an old Ben action figure. Honestly, old Ben doesn't hold much interest for me, as the younger, more heroic Obi-Wan figures are much more interesting in my opinion. But, my eleven year old seemed insistent, so I went along.
"Yes, I think I probably need to think about getting an old Ben, I suppose." I replied. With that, he disappeared, only to reappear and sadly lament his lack of money. I tried to console him. "That's alright, sweetie...I think I have enough figures, don't you?"
For my Mother's Day 'gift', I told my husband I wanted a day to myself. I know, selfish, but a day with no obligations, duties or expectations almost makes me giddy. He was happy to oblige and agreed to take the boys out for the day doing 'guy' stuff. That left me with Morgan, who is becoming quite pleasant to be with, actually (but that's another story...a teenage story). That's close enough to 'a day to myself' for me. As the boys came in early to say goodbye, there were Happy Mother's Day wishes all around, albeit received in a sleepy stupor. Somehow, an iTunes gift card ended up in my hand, happily. Then hugs and departure as I climbed back into my bed (it was only 6 am, after all). As they were heading out, the youngest made an about-face, ran back to me, fished something out of his pocket, and shyly handed me a package. With a small smile, he rushed to head out with Dad and his older brother.
In my hand was a hand-wrapped gift that proclaimed:
"To the Beast Mom in the Wolled!"
I have to admit, it took me a bit to translate. Then came the heart-melt. *smile*
Inside was what he had to give, in a Sharpie-colored match box. Priceless.
I guess if I were the 'beast' mom, I would have been helping him spell better. But, I have to be doing something right if he is giving me the prized blue lightsaber!