I woke up today to the most delicious bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios hand delivered to me, in bed, by my eight year old son. He woke up early to ensure that he would be the one to deliver me breakfast in bed, made with love of course. With a full belly and some serious snuggling to start my day, I slid my feet into my UGG slippers and made my way down the stairs where I was greeted with flowers, chocolates, cards from the family (including a special one from the dog) and the sound of my boyfriend, laughing on the phone with his Mom. I looked out the sliding doors; it was a beautiful, sunny Sunday morning and we had big plans for a flip-flopping oceanside picnic.
It was a perfect plan for a perfect day, that is, until I stepped outside; I was deceived. The Mother of all Mothers, Mother Nature almost blew me away, literally. The temperature was a blustery 58 degrees and the trees rattled and leaned from what seemed like Gale-force winds. I was duped. As I walked back in, boyfriend, now off the phone said hesitantly, “I don’t think the beach is going to be a good idea for today.” “Dammit!” I thought, but reluctantly agreed and went up to get ready. It is of course, only the beginning of May; my flip flops will wait for me.
What would we do now though? There was no Plan B and time was a-’wasting. I was not really interested in just going out to eat at some fancy, extremely busy-because-it’s-a-holiday restaurant, I just wanted to spend some relaxed, quality time with my boys – not being home with the laundry and the dishes quietly calling my name.
After searching through the “Top 25 Things to do with Mom on Mother’s Day” and realizing that we were either too late or too far away, I closed the computer and conceded my defeat. Frusterated was the LAST thing I wanted to be on my special day. Then, like Curt Schilling in Game two of the 2004 world Series, he came through. “Put your shoes on and let’s go, I have an idea.” I got excited, then thought, “put my shoes on, where were we going”? I was wearing jeans and an off-white sweater – too nice for sneakers, but I wasn’t feeling fancy heels.
I ran up and stood in my closet staring for a moment when finally, someone spoke up, “take the white ones on the top shelf.” I turned to see if Mike was behind me rushing me along, but no one was there.
“We have a name you know.”
I looked under my bed where my son likes to hide, but he wasn’t there either. OK, I was definitely hearing things. “Let’s go!” That voice I knew. “I’m coming!” I yelled back. “OK,” I thought, “back to the shoes.” When I walked back into my closet and glanced at the 26 pairs of shoes neatly sitting on their shelves, my eyes landed on a pair of white Coach flats with gold buckles on the toes.
Hmm, I thought, they will match my sweater, they’re flats so they’re comfortable and they’re pretty – all white and gold. ”Perfect”, I said quietly.
“Of course”, someone replied.
I ignored my mind playing tricks on me, slipped my white flats on and headed out. We drove out to a neighboring town that I knew well, we had just moved from there last year. Driving down Main Street, I got excited and my mouth began to water. With a big smile on my face, I looked over and said, “Sushi?” (he knows it’s my favorite) “Yup”, he said. “I figured that Shanghai Sushi (our favorite little sushi joint) wouldn’t be as busy as busy as the other restaurants are today.” He was right. The three of us sat down and ordered right away. After thorough discussion of what animals we are according to the Chinese horoscope and filling our faces with 56 pieces of Crazy Maki, we headed home.
Driving home I refelcted on how it turned out to be a great day and I didn’t have to do one thing around the house. We did make one stop on the way, but it was one errand I didn’t mind; my shoes were ready to be picked up from the cobbler. About two weeks ago, I dropped off four pairs of shoes to be re-heeled. They had been sitting in a bag in our bedroom for months because I had no idea where to take them, when one day I was dropping off the dry cleaning, I noticed a sign that said, “we take care of shoes too.” It worked out perfectly, I finally found a place to fix my clickety heels, so worn down that I could hear the exposed nail in the heel clicking on the floor.
I ran into the shop, grabbed the two bags of shoes, inspected the craftsmanship of the re-heel job and with satisfaction hopped back in the car to, again, head home, but this time with my stiletto treasures. It had been so long since I had worn these that it was as if I was going home with four brand new pairs of shoes…the icing on the cake of a great Mother’s Day.
