We have a thing around here. A sure fire way to tell when the kiddo is annoyed with me. I get “mother”ed. The kiddo doesn’t call me mom or momma like he sometimes does when he’s tired, and he doesn’t send out a low, groaney, drawn out mom like other teens might do. Nope. Not my kid. Mine looks at me and very sharply says MOTHER and this is the tell, that not so subtle way I know that I’ve gone too far, overstepped my bounds, insulted his intelligence, breathed wrong on a given day, or otherwise just ticked him off.
So imagine my surprise today when for the first time ever I check my texts and the word MOTHER pops up from the kiddo. Before you judge me, just know that I’ve been in my office all morning staying in my lane and he’s at school. I know what you’re thinking but cut me some slack. Surely I couldn’t have screwed something up all the way across town, right?
We took the kiddo to see John Mayer last summer, his first concert and his best concert, and it was magical. Our little trio had an amazing night and we made some of our biggest memories over sodas and wailing guitars. Walking to the car we promised ourselves if John ever got close enough that we could go again, we’d do it without question. That night is still something we talk about all these months later. We promised each other.
When MOTHER landed on my screen this afternoon, I had to read the text twice before I could fully comprehend that the kiddo wasn’t saying it to chastise me, point out a flaw, or call me to the carpet for something. Nope. For the first time ever this MOTHER was used to snag my attention and hold it tight.
HE’S COMING BACK
After I figured out who HE was, my first thought was that I have no idea where we’ll be on August 12th. Where the kiddo will have landed for school and how I’ll be filling my time and dealing with the newly vacant room at the end of our hallway.
WE HAVE TO GO
Well of course we do! I have no idea if money for five tickets is in the budget but yes. We have to go. The kiddo has invited his dad and I to join him, his bestie, and his girl at the concert and there’s no place I’d rather be. There’s no place else I’m going to be.
I’ve been mothered a lot over the past seventeen years but never once has it made me smile like it is right now. Thanks for putting Indy back on the calendar, John. This is MOTHERhood gold.
