On the Bright Side

Okay, so I should probably start by explaining that my kids never actually said, “Mother, may I...” although I tried. And I’m not talking about the game we played in the 70s where we stood in a line and one person got to choose who would be “Mother” next by allowing that person 5 steps forward to the everyone else’s 3 paces backward. The title of my column this month is just my cheesy way of using ‘Mother’ and ‘May’ together since Mother’s Day is this month (hint, hint). But my story is a mother’s tale. A few weeks ago, my son drove home from college miserable with a 102 fever. I offered to drive up to see him, but he preferred coming home for some “fresh air, peace and quiet.” I’d like to say I felt bad for him, but if I did that paled in comparison to the major mom-high I was on. In a few days he’d be better and I’d go back to being the nag who still from afar manages to ask just enough questions to garner an eye roll. I’m pretty sure that’s why we don’t Skype. In the meantime,