In honor of Mother's Day, an encore homage to the woman who birthed the love of my life and nurtured him into the man he has become. She is also known as my Mother-in-Law, the Butcher of Milwaukee.
And, she is going to kill me for telling this MTM-inspired story.
Mother's Day is Sunday. Many of you probably lose sleep wondering why I don't write about my mother much on my blog.
While my father is this big, gregarious personality, my mother is...........a quiet, ladylike force. She does NOT like for me to write about her.
For those of you who've forgotten, Mother's Day is this Sunday in the United States. Good old May 12. Another opportunity to fail to buy my mother the Perfect Mother's Day Gift.
Because, really.......what IS the Perfect Mother's Day Gift for a person who has conversations like this?......
Twilight cast long shadows across my parent's back yard in Florence, South Carolina, as we sat on the screened porch, sipped Perrier and watched the sprinkler arc. Forward and back. Forward and back. A watery path that dotted the surface of the bird feeder and my father's Man Shed.
Linda, that sprinkler better not be wetting my building. I don't need no termites out there. Go move it.
Now Roy, if you're so worried about that sprinkler and some termites, you go move it.