So we got up and went to church, where Jim bought me a lovely corsage, with the proceeds going toward an anti-malaria program in Africa. Sweet, that man is. And then when we got back to the house, he made me a lovely brunch. No word from those boys, who I was sure were still sleeping, heathens that they are. I did get a text from Jillie, with something of a recap from a wedding of the day before -- one that neither of us attended, but that she felt the need to judge as to why it was "trendy." "Trendy" in Jill's terms, equates with tacky in Jill's world, especially where it pertains to weddings. But I digress.
So we chatted a bit about said wedding. Not about Mother's Day. This was about the time I started to get a giggle out of the whole thing, because it was completely apparent that they had all forgotten. Now listen, this did not bother me one iota. I found it hilarious. Like when they forgot my birthday last year -- my 50th, no less. Every single one of them forgot. Cracks me up. And when it comes to Mother's Day, here's my feeling: if you love me 364 days a year, then I'm fine with the one other day. And if you don't love me 364 days a year, one day won't make up for it. And that's the God's honest truth.
So Jim and I spent the afternoon cleaning out closets and reconfiguring his office. I texted Seth at one point, and he didn't respond. So I emailed Thomas and asked him to check on his brother, to make sure that he wasn't dead, because he was getting over a pretty bad asthma thingy. (As I told him: he does not have a future in landscaping. He said that sucks, because apparently, landscaping is his newest favorite pasttime.) Seth texted me back straightaway: "fever is gone, throat still sucks, cough is meh. Feels like bad allergies now" Again, no words about Mother's Day.
We knocked ourselves out getting stuff set up at the house, and Jim made me a fine dinner of chicken drummettes, cole slaw, and fries. He still didn't believe that they'd forgotten my special day, and I was sure that they did. I was still laughing about it. So we made an agreement that I would call him as soon as I got home, and let him know if the boys actually acknowledged the day. I told him they wouldn't, but I agreed to call.
I no sooner got out of the driveway than Seth texted me and said "Happy Mother's Day, btw." Sucked the wind right outta my sails cause doggone it, he remembered after all. Phooey. So I got home, and up wandered Seth from the depths. Instead of "Happy Mother's Day," he asked if I'd gotten dog food. Phooey again. He had told me earlier that we needed dog food, but I forgot, and apparently we were totally out. Right about that time, Thomas wandered in and announced that he was going to the grocery store. BINGO. "Hey, can you pick up some dog food for me?" I said. "If you give me some money, sure," replied Thomas. So I went for it: full on guilt. "You mean to tell me that you can't even front your mom some money on Mother's Day?"
The look on his face was absolutely priceless, I tell you. He took it all in for a minute, then turned to his brother and said "is it Mother's Day?" Seth immediately responded:
"Uh, YEAH. Why do you think I did the dishes?"
Yep, that's my boy.
Thomas was pretty sheepish, and then said he really wasn't being a jerk, but that he is keeping himself on a very tight budget, and that he really didn't have money to spend. I tossed him a twenty and told him he was officially not allowed to get me anything while he was at the store, because 1) it would wreak of desperation, 2) second though gifts are lame (like the year the ex bought me a single votive candle and a coloring book at CVS on his way home on my birthday), 3) it would take all the fun out of him forgetting Mother's Day and 4) he is on a very strict budget. Bada-bing! Got him with the last one.
So I got the most important gift of all on Mother's Day: a good laugh.
And next day, I found this in the fridge:
"Thomas' food for the work week. Pls don't eat unless dying."
Man, that is one SERIOUS budget.