After all these years, my husband broke down and gave me a baby girl for Mother’s Day. Just when I was about to call him a bastard for waking me up at 7:36 am on a Sunday morning to take a three minute piss – all the curses were cut short when I caught sight of this baby girl waiting to be cradled in the arms of her new mama.
Here she is:
I named her Sono-Maureen after my late sister. My sister was the most self sacrificing, beautifully patient storm of a mother I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Some people are instruments – channels for a greater good – and I have no doubt that she was one. It’s fitting, that she should arrive as one, on this day.
After noodling for hours with our newest addition, Zuki asked for a hug. Sensing some jealousy, I thanked him for the guitar and he responded, “I didn’t buy the guitar for you, Daddy did. But if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be a mommy and that means you wouldn’t have it as a Mother’s Day gift. So really, this is my guitar.”
Next year, I’m going to encourage the Breakfast in Bed and say, “Technically, this is your mess – you clean it.”