It’s the day before Mother’s Day and I have a confession to make. Annabelle and I were out Mother’s Day card shopping earlier this week and…I…well…I read through the entire section of cards, not for Mother, or Mother-in-law, Sister, or Grandmother, but the cards listed under the category of Wife…trying to guess which one David would pick out for me ( g-u-l-p, I know I am horrible). On our way home I was still thinking about all those lovely cards I had read, until I realized with a twinge of regret, that I wouldn’t be getting any of the good ones…because by the time David figures it out that guys are suppose to buy Mother’s Day cards for their wives…(we’ll give him a small break, since it is my 1st mothers day and I don’t think he quite knows how they work yet) it will be 10 am tommorow morning and there will only be two cards left on the shelf…the sappiest one, and the ugliest…(you know the ones embossed in huge gold cursive letters with a watercolor of flowers in a vase in the most hideous shades of brown, purple orange and green you’ve ever seen)…
And I suppose it will just serve me right if I don’t get a card for Mother’s Day at all. So in a last ditch attempt to clear my conscience, I am going to do penance by vowing not to even feel the tinsiest disappointment…(or even hint at the fact) if he completely forgets that it is Mother’s Day tommorow.
I highly doubt that he will. After all, he remembered May Day. How impressive is that?!