I have become my mother.
My seventeen-year-old son Bo took charge of Mother's Day for the first time.
On Saturday he asked me what present I would like.
In all sincerity I answered, "To spend the day with you and Riley Rose."
Unsatisfied he pushed a little more, "That's it?"
"A card or two. Handmade would be great."
"Mom, there has to be something you want. What do you want?"
Thinking quickly I uttered, "An immersion blender?"
I said it with some hesitation because although I love the gadget, mine broke over a year ago and I haven't really missed it.
"Okay!" Bo replied then he added, "Where do you get one of those?"
It was so sweet and transparent. I wanted to say Kohl's because they have a great appliance department with reasonable prices, but explaining to a teenager what cooking tool to search for in a vast emporium with little clerk assistance would never happen.
I took a big gulp and told him about Sur La Table. I like it there, however I am more inclined to go to the local restaurant supply to find professional grade products for half the price.
It's the thought (not the extra thirty bucks) that counts, right?
I swallowed my frugal pride and gave Bo directions to Sur La Table.
The next morning I awoke to flowers placed on the kitchen counter. Three cards were surrounding the bucket. Yes, bucket. Apparently they couldn't find the vases. These are the same kids that can sniff out an open bag of chocolate chips hidden in the back of the drawer with the cloth napkins, yet they can't find the vases.
I was jumping out of my skin ready to start the day with them. Why do kids sleep until 5:00A on Christmas and 11:00A on Mother's Day?
When they finally crawled out of bed they were remarkably cheery. They couldn't wait for me to read the cards. All the usual corny Hallmark stuff though it was the handwritten message, "Mom, you do almost everything for us," that filled my heart.
I felt like Sally Field at the Oscars, "You like me. You really like me!"
I didn't get the immersion blender but I did get the loving acknowledgment.
It's all I wanted.
It's all my mother ever wanted.