i think that mommas are the best human beings on the planet.
while i am unfamiliar with exactly what it takes to be one, i know that a baby
screaming for no reason makes me want to shoot myself in the face. i can’t
imagine having one of those for a very long time (like, your whole life).
my momma is my best friend. my momma is my safe place. my
momma is the smartest lady i know. she can make non-box macaroni and cheese
from memory, and she’ll leave the onions out. she can weed a whole garden in
overalls and make it look cool. my mom reads instead of watching tv; it drives
me nuts, but she is the only person i know who can do that.
my momma encourages my expensive nail polish addiction, even
when we already have that color (or its sister). my momma holds me when
i’m happy, and sad, and all of the in-betweens. my momma decorates the bathroom
for christmas because she knows i like it. my momma can crochet anything your
momma can crochet, only better and faster. i bet you.
my momma lets me scream at her. she listens to me yell. i’ve
said things to my momma that i’m not very proud of. she’s caught me doing
things i probably shouldn’t have done. she’s paid my parking tickets, given me an
alibi, and told me to “just buy the shoes.”
my momma is a listener, unless she’s playing bejeweled. my
momma can read my mind, even from across the lake. she also looks mighty fine in a blazer. my
momma shows up in bits and pieces of my day, even when we haven’t spoken in a
few days. my momma is funny.
my momma helps me decide what is important, what can wait,
and what to forget all together.
my momma helps me decide who is important, who can wait, and
who to forget all together.
my momma is my very best friend.
