Mother's Day

Can you read that? The Monkey wrote it all himself. Seems he's been sandbagging on the writing thing and he actually knows a whole lot more letters than he's been letting on. Clever little Monkey!

(And yes. The minute I find a frame, I'm framing it. I'm an utter sap that way!)

Then again, maybe I only can read it because I was there when he wrote it...voluntarily...trotting out with a pen and a post-it pad ready to proclaim his Mother's Day lurve to the world and all future generations. (This is noteworthy because most times when I request that he write something, it winds up in frustrated scribbles all over the page).

And there were a million sappy moments on Mother's Day...most of it too difficult to explain in a blog. Suffice it to say that the Monkey is an incredibly affectionate child...and he loves opportunities to lavish it without restraint. Trust me, Mother's Day is the pinnacle for such displays. Truthfully, I felt a little lost when he went to spend time with Monkeydad later in the afternoon.

But! One of the highlights of our Mother's Day adventures (which included, I might add, trading in the "Cook for the Cure" Pink Kitchenaid stand mixer for a...less...pink....version. The Monkey's rationale was something like "Mommy is a girl. Girls like pink!" and, according to Monkeydad, he said as he handed me the return receipt, there was no dissuading him...)

...wait, where was I? Oh! Right! One of the highlights of our Mother's Day adventures was a trip to TGIFriday's for lunch. The lunch itself was unremarkable (though it was cute when the Monkey told the waitress, very politely, that he would like "a hot dog and a side order of fries, please.")...at least in comparison to the post-lunch trip to the bathroom.

Yeah, the trip to the bathroom. So after lunch, we headed to the bathroom to clean up. The usual "no, I don't want to go in the women's room" fight ensued...and he actually did use the men's (as I hovered nervously outside the door...scrutinizing the one guy who walked in...ready to pounce if I heard so much as an errant splash)...and he survived just fine. Sadly, that helped me none, so I took him in the women's with me anyway. He was antsy, so I distracted him by pointing out a piece of missing tile on the wall...and we began to theorize why the tile was missing. Aliens, angry llamas, bugs, earthquakes, crazy-big bellies from overfull people...we are imagination central.

So I found out today that later that afternoon, the Monkey made Monkeydad play the game some more...and they free associated on more far-fetched, zany reasons for why the tile might have been missing. This was my favorite part of the story:

Monkeydad: Or maybeee........a giant asteroid fell from the sky and smashed into the wall and knocked the piece out!

Monkey: What's an asteroid?

Monkeydad: Well, it's a piece of space rock that falls to the ground.

Monkey: Um...Dad...that's a meteorite!

Monkeydad: Oh. Yes, actually. Yes it is. Nevermind.