Tales From the Grocery Store
I'm 51-years-old.
And to this day,
when I'm with my mom,
she wants to spoil me.
She wants to pay for the meal.
Or take me clothes shopping.
Or buy me the book.
arriving at the counter to pay,
and before I realize it
she's snagged my stuff out of the cart
and is paying for it
all sneaky-like.
I insist that I'm paying and she insists that she's paying,
and she pulls the "I'm your mother card,"
and rather than start a full-on brawl in Target with my mama,
she wins.
Often and at random times,
an envelope will show up in my mailbox with twenty bucks and a note.
"Buy yourself something you wouldn't buy for yourself."
This has happened my entire adult life;
whether I was in college,
overeseas,
single or married.
She spoils me rotten.
This past Saturday, Sep 19th, 2020.
I whisked Maddie away from her college for the day
to surprise her daddy for his birthday celebration at the lake.
(That's a whole 'nother story!)
At some point she and I ran to the grocery store
to grab a few ingredients for supper.
As we traveled the aisles I found myself saying,
"Do you need this?
What about this?
I think this would be good.
If one is good you'd better grab two,
just in case you don't get to the store anytime soon.
What? No chocolate?
You'll need chocolate.
Exams are coming."
She kept saying,
"I'm good mom. I really don't need anything."
And I kept pushing groceries on her like I was a cocaine junkie
and it felt oh-so-good.
I needed my fix.
My mothering fix.
Feeding her and keeping her alive was what I did for 18-years,
and if you're wondering,
that's 19,710 meals since birth.
I did the math.
And all of a sudden that job was terminated last month.
Poof.
It was over.
So I do believe that Saturday's grocery run escapade
was my little opportunity to be her mom again.
And I think it was as much for me as it was for her.