Monday, May 19, 2008

I Couldn't Make This Up

Mother's Day: A Retrospective- Part I



Two weeks ago I devoted two lengthy posts to the discussion of Mother's Day gift giving for the fathers who were either at a loss, or were in need of some direction. In those posts I included lovely gift ideas such as a cleaning service, jewelry, gift certificates, and a host of pampering ideas. In contrast, I also devoted some time to a list of gifts to avoid. These included household appliances, awful home decor, and the like.



Ironically, my own Mother's Day was....memorable; and that is the story I have been meaning to tell. Some of you will see me as ungrateful, while others will see me as merciful. But no matter what your reaction, "the people, the event, and the drama are real..."



Before I begin what may be my most memorable Mother's Day so far, let me begin by issuing this disclaimer: my husband is a pretty amazing man. He is a great father, a wonderful husband, and an all-around nice guy. He also has a history of extending some very thoughtful gifts to me in the past. These gifts include the camera of my dreams, spa gift certificates, and other surprises that simply took my breath away. Unfortunately, this post is not about those gifts.



My third Mother's Day was a natural disaster from the beginning. Tornadoes buffeting the southeastern United States kept me stuck in the Jacksonville airport for hours as I desperately awaited my return home to my husband and children. I was in Florida for the First Communion of my niece, the beautiful Grace, and this trip also marked the first time I would be away from my little man overnight....all the more reason I was anxious to get home.



With each new flight delay, I became more and more sick at heart for my family and my fleeting Mother's Day. When I did eventually board the plane, I was seated in front of a mother and child who read books and sang songs the entire flight. I was definitely wallowing in some Mother's Day melancholy.



My travel weary self finally found its way home at 5:30 PM, where I was greeted with hugs and kisses before making it into the door. I breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed my emotional day was coming to an end; I listened as my little girl jabbered on about all she had done in the 36 hours I was gone; and I held my little guy as he just stared at me in happy contentment. I passed out souvenirs and described the exciting airplane and the beach. All was as it should be...for now.



As the greetings came to a close, my beaming husband scooped up both children and with barely contained excitement said,



"Should we show Mommy her special gift??"



"Yes!" Olivia shouted, while Joseph smiled and drooled an assent.



They began jumping around in joyous anticipation as my husband cheered: "Follow us!".



I can honestly say that, given my day and my demeanor, I had completely dismissed the occurrence of any kind of Mother's Day celebration and so, when a gift was mentioned (and boy do I love them), my soul felt a momentary lift.



I followed the party parade into the kitchen where the great reveal would take place. I sucked in a deep breath as I turned the corner and let go an audible gasp as I took in my present in all of its shining grandeur.



There it was....positioned atop our island to enhance the effect of its glory and assembled and polished for immediate impact:



The Mother of all Mother's Day Gifts: The Hoover Floormate SpinScrub Widepath Hardwood Floor Cleaner



I turned to see their eager faces trying to read my reaction, a reaction I was trying so desperately to conceal.

"What is this?" I smiled as I my attempt at a giggle sounded more like a gurgle.




"I know! Isn't great!? It cleans hardwood floors, and also vacuums, and even picks up wet spills!!!!"



I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I am dreaming. I am dreaming.



"Not only that...it comes with a special attachment for cleaning grout! It got the best consumer reports...but wait, let me just show you!!!"



Where are the cameras? Ashton, I know you cancelled the show and all, but I am being punked? Right? Someone? Anyone?



"Now don't worry, I already assembled it completely and even put in the cleaning fluid that is made especially for hardwood floors. See...".



My head is spinning as I watch him wrestle it down from the island (no easy task....this cleaning contraption appears to weigh a great deal) and he turns it on using the "control finger" feature he also feels compelled to expound on.


"Wow!" I manage to sputter, "What made you think of this?".



"Oh, your mom!"



Why, Barbara, why? Was I that horrible of a teenager? I swear it was Paul who broke the lamp.



"My...mom???"



"No, I mean, you said you'd like an electric broom like your mom's since you are always sweeping up after Joseph's meals" (my son is a one man Old Country Buffet) "so I figured I'd just get something that did it all!!!"



Reeling. My mind is reeling. I thought I did have something that "does it all"....her name is Diana and she comes ever other Thursday.....



"Let's check it out! Plug it in! Plug it in!"



I contemplate making a quick job of wrapping the chord around my neck, but decided against scaring the children and found a close socket.



With a magical "whoosh" the floor cleaning phenom came to life, shaking the house and my last few grasps of sanity.



My husband danced about with handle in one grip and the baby in the other...no doubt to show how I would use it. He swivelled under chairs, pirouetted around the table, and shimmied under my desk.



As the show began to wind down I made a mental check of everything he had ever done for me, how I must not reveal my surprise / horror / surprise, how he loves me, really, deep down, he must have looked at this and said, "yes, that really shows my love."



I must focus.



He flips the switch and spins to face me. The baby had clearly enjoyed the ride, and Olivia is now dancing around on the newly slicked floor, made perfect for spinning.



"So, what do you think? Great, right?"



Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.......





To be continued......















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