Monday’s are usually my go-to-get-it-all-done-run-like-crazy days. After I drop the mini-mes off at school, I swing by Walmart to re-stock the bare cupboards and naked refrigerator— the mini-mes consist of three, hollow-legged, boys who have yet to enter the double digit years! God, help me. After Walmart, I fly home, and with the help of a magic wand … aka my iPod … I right the many wrongs that have occurred in our home. Sharpie art, missed shots in the bathroom and de-freak the dog. After lunch, I open up my Work In Progress and breathe as normalcy returns.
Cart raced another mom to the only empty check out line.
Flew down the freeway.
Tossed the groceries in the fridge and left the non-melty ones in their bags on the floor of the kitchen.
Jumped back in the car and raced around the block to my momma’s house before she could change her mind about the sauce recipe!
An hour later with the sauce simmering and copious notes scribbled on the back of a Walmart receipt, we went and saw I AM NUMBER 4.
Half way through the movie my momma leaned over and said, “Your book would make a MUCH better movie.”
She went back to her buttered popcorn and watched the hottie, John Smith, save his girlfriend.
I settled back into the chair and realized, every now and again, you need a mommy and me day … even when you’re thirty-something.
That night I caught up on my book edits with my momma’s voice in my head and homemade lasagna in my belly.