So this morning, just as I'm about to leave for Bazoom, Sean says to me "We have a lot of yard work to do today."
I'm sorry, what was that again?
I don't like doing yard work when it's not Mother's Day weekend, forget about it when it is Mother's Day weekend. Not happening.
I think I'm turning Mother's Day into the same kind of thing as my birthday. At first, it was just my birthday. Then it turned into my birthday week, then my birthday month.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who does this - I think it's common practice. If not, it really should be, don't you think?
I told the boys that all I want for Mother's Day is for them to clean their rooms. TJ's is not so bad but Peter's is a complete disaster area. All week when I reminded Peter that he needs to do a little bit of room cleaning every day, it turned into World War III around here. But now he's cleaning his room, sorting through the piles of papers and knick-knacks that are precious to a ten-year-old, and when he started he said to me "I didn't even yell at you, Mom! How's that?"
By the way, that's not all I really want for Mother's Day, of course, but I am realistic. Diamonds simply aren't happening right now. Totally OK with it.
On another note, Sean is off to get pain meds for the dog. He was snipped yesterday, and has been crying ever since. Seriously. It's awful.
Me: "Sean, we really need pain meds for the Sammy....call the vet."
Sean: "He's fine. He just wants attention."
Me: "If I had you castrated I'd get you pain meds."
Sean: "Gee, thanks."
Me: "I'm just sayin'. He's miserable."
Guess it hit home because he's off to the vet's for the meds. Which just goes to prove that with guys, it's all about the penis.
Speaking of, tonight is my Book Club. Our last book was 50 Shades of Grey. This ought to be a good one.
And there is NO WAY I will be writing anything about it. No one panic.