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I don’t know how I will fare in this economy for Mothers Day. As a single mother of three, awakening on that one designated Sunday in May can be quite daunting. There really is no fatherly ‘guidance’ when picking out my gift. Last year my children presented me with a car washing KIT...(and I think they borrowed the money from me). I know they all collaborated on this and my 12 year old boy, Avery must have had the final say. Had they pilfered some extra cash, I may have been the proud owner of an RC car. Mind you, its not the fact that I might have enjoyed the money on a spa treatment or a relaxing brunch but now I will spend my one honorable day scrubbing my own car.

Mothers Day ads really are no help. They seem so ethereal touting a spring bouquet for mom or perhaps pounds of decadent chocolate while birds chirp in the background. Yet when it approaches Father’s Day the commercials seem extra loud. The announcer fresh from hosting a Monster Truck rally yells, “This Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, give dad what he always wanted..a Plasma Screen TV, Blackberry Smartphone, or the Black and Decker Wallet Breaker!!” Hey, how about a homemade tie from a 6 year old? Maybe a platter of burnt toast and Fruity Pebbles? So, dad gets state of the art electronics, and mom gets an arrangement of nats and if lucky a bout of diarrhea? I say lucky because it’s the only time you can lose 5lbs instantly!

This year there really is no extra cash. But I do have one everlasting memory in a story that occured years ago. Avery was about four years old. He asked me to retell (for the umpteenth time) about the day he was born. I went into great detail explaining the first pain, the drive to the hospital into the final moments. Avery’s eyes never blinked once. The story builds and Avery scoots closer with his chin propped in his hands. I continue, “...and then you entered this world!! We didn’t know if you would be a boy or a girl; we were so excited to finally find out what you were....” and without missing a beat, Avery shouts in anticipation, “Annd WHAT WAS I???” That sweet memory trumps all gifts; Even the do it yourself kind.

As always, “Live well...laugh hard!”

Lizette Mizelle