Whoever gives out the medals for meritorious mom service should seek me out and pin one on my chest for being in the thick of some hazardous duty over the last several days. It was so easy mothering these two little cherubs who asked nothing more of me than to just turn on the hose so they could fill up their backyard blow-up pool.
It got so dicey I was even considering turning in my mom license for one of those mom I.D. cards that only identifies a woman as a mom and prohibits her from actually having her foot on the gas and her hands on the steering wheel.But things are a little better now. I've found some excellent therapy.
And while I was out on a little shopping excursion this morning, I saw these cute sheep planters at the local dollar store. I almost made an impulse purchase, and then suddenly remembered I don't do gardening anymore.
But I did find just what I was looking for, and that was a small desk-sized easel for my roosters.
Yeah, I know. Eggs and roosters don't go together. Trust me, there's a hen party going on just out of view.
And there is a bit of good news. Spring has sprung here in the northeast and it's starting to warm up. I have a fool-proof method for determining, without referring to the calendar, the precise date of the season changes. It's the day the socks come off and the day they go back on......
