May 19
I have a confession to make. I'm a hairy person. This dreadful situation was particularly upsetting for me as a junior high school girl. Because I was (and still am) white as a sheet, hair really stood out on me, especially my natural chocolate brown color back then. Paper white legs plus inch-long blackish hairs equalled SCARY BOY REPELLANT.
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.
It was driving her crazy that I wouldn't open her box. She had wrapped it more simply than usual, as if its minimalism would entice me to set aside my usual reserved nature and rip it open to behold her gift.
But I wouldn't succumb.
MTM has been a little under the weather the past couple of days. Nothing serious. And, he's a good patient. Almost chipper. Never makes ridiculous, needy requests. Doesn't moan and act pathetic, wallowing in his favorite chair like his world has ended. He actually smiles when I walk into the room.
What's weird about his behavior is this: I don't understand why he isn't taking the opportunity to slam me with a big, honking dose of payback.
Steam blew out of her mouth and fogged her glasses against the backdrop of the night sky. Rubber-and-leather-clad feet crunched on gravel, echoing against the whip of flags in the wind, the sirens, the thrum of jet engines. Even with the ghostly pencil of stone carving a swath between a crescent moon and two planets, she sighed. The National Mall on a windy night wasn't her idea of a fun slog after a zig-zagging day of work, dashing from place to place to place around the District.
Click the numbered link below to circle me on Google+.
Theme: Linen by The Theme Foundry
