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Colorful flower centerpieces and a solitary “Happy Mother’s Day” cardboard cutout grace the back seat of my Family Truckster as I begin the final planning stages of the Mother’s Day luncheon that is soon to occur at my house.
Just to be clear, “luncheon” may actually be a bit overstated. It sounds fancy but the reality is that my only sister and my beloved momma will be joining my family and me at my borderline-tiny-house for a meal of Swedish Meatballs, cheesy hashbrowns, and homemade fudge. It all sounds so Minnesotan, doesn’t it?
The fudge will be the main focal point of the meal. In my mind anyway.
As I arrive home and survey my not-so-tidy mini-kingdom, I am also reminded of a joke I heard eons ago. A second-grade teacher was immersed in a class curriculum that included lessons on magnets and they do. The next day in a written test, she asked this question: “My full name has six letters. The first one is M. I pick up things. What am I?”
When the test papers were turned in, the teacher was astonished to find that almost half of her class answered the question with the word Mother.
So let me just say, if your house looks like wolves live there this Mother’s Day…just let it go. Let be the one day all year you don’t have to be the Mother of all Magnets.