how I know my mom is the best mom

When I was a wee domesticait (ok … approximately 16), I thought I would perform a loving act for my dear, hardworking and supportive mom.  Since my sweet tooth is the pointiest one, I immediately thought of the best way to show my appreciation: a delicious ice cream sundae.

In addition to being the head cook, financial adviser, nurse, teacher, etc. my mom also tends a prolific garden each year.  Included in her crops is a lush mint plant from the herb garden.  Mom usually makes her own homemade mint sauce and keeps it in a decorative bottle in the refrigerator.

I assembled a beautiful sundae, topped with the chocolate chips and a hefty dose of her mint sauce.  The mint sauce smelled a little funny when I poured it out, but I thought it was a new improvement on her recipe.  Mom never leads us astray with her food (except for when she tries to make Jello, but that’s another story) so I figured my palate was simply too immature for her sauces.

The sundae was finished–albeit still with a strange lingering smell–and was triumphantly presented to my mother.  She was touched by my kindness and quickly prepared to dig in to my creation.

She hesitated.  Probably because at this point in my life, I had almost burned the house down trying to cook a chicken breast, which ultimately, even the dog wouldn’t eat.

“Um … Cait?  What sauce did you use?”

“The mint sauce.  I found it in the bottle in the fridge.”

” …..  That bottle now holds my homemade …. ITALIAN DRESSING.”

I MADE MY BELOVED MOTHER A CHOCOLATE AND ITALIAN DRESSING SUNDAE.

My heart sank.  This random act of kindness had failed spectacularly.  But I was not prepared for what my mother would do next.

SHE ATE IT.  THE WOMAN ATE MY SATAN SUNDAE.

After she had polished off the entire creation, she told me that she didn’t have the heart to toss my dessert in the trash.

“Well, honey, you made it for me.  Why would I throw it away?” she reasoned.

Please keep in mind that I am sixteen years old at this time, and she was treating me with the same care as a toddler who presents their parent with their prized dried macaroni artwork.

This is how I know my mom is the best mom.  She has endured everything I have thrown at her in the last 24 years, including the world’s worst ice cream sundae.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  I hope I can be half the mother you have been.  With extra Italian dressing on top.

Mom and me in Times Square, March 2013

things that did not happen since my last blog post

It has been almost two months since my last post, but take heart–here is a list of things that did not happen to me in my absence, in case you were worried.

1. I did not kill the family members who came to our apartment for Easter–the first holiday I ever hosted.  I also successfully made this incredible Lemon Cream Pie (second time’s the charm … BEWARE OF THE SALT).

my Easter centerpiece. you are reading that correctly.

2. I did not get mugged/kidnapped/lost when in New York City in late March.  I DID eat some fabulous food and sang at Carnegie Hall, however.  Also–got up close and personal with A CARNEGIE HALL COCKROACH.

3. I did not perish during the freakish, ongoing winter that the Midwest suffered under this year.  However it was getting pretty dicey last week (yes, IN MAY) after a foot of snow fell in only a few hours–beaching my car like a pathetic baby whale while trying to exit my parking space on our street.

4. I did not bankrupt our family with thrift store purchases. … But it was close.

5. My husband did not kill me after I broke into a rousing rendition of, “The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia” in a parking lot.  … But it was close.

6. I did not kill half of the bulbs I tried to resurrect this year.  The other half … the jury is still out.

7. I did not come up with a super great roller derby name for my first experience at a bout.  Because everyone goes to an event where women crash into each other and you can witness bruises blossoming under their fishnets the night before you celebrate the resurrection of Christ.  I did however discover that I do not want to be a roller derby participant.

8. I did not mourn the loss of my beloved Beef, even after she ate a chocolate bunny, a chocolate egg, three gourmet cupcakes and various Styrofoam items.  What can I say?  She takes after her momma.

9. I did not refrain from taking adorable photos of our babies:

this moment only lasted for 4.2 more blissful seconds.

10. I did not burn down the apartment/kill a loved one/figure out my sewing machine.  So the experiment continues!  Looking forward to more adventures, coming soon.

when calling your husband “schmoopie” is inappropriate

Maybe it’s just me, but I have an irresistible need for pet names.

Mr. A has even joked that if we ever have children, there will be no need to name them, since I never use the actual names for anything anyway.

Some of the choice pet names of the moment in our household (used for husband, cat, dog and some treasured appliances)

1. Schmoopsie

2. Handsome Man

3. Poops

4. Bunny

5. Little Girl

There are others.  It’s a sickness.

Especially with the husband, I feel like there needs to be a name that is reserved for ONLY ME to call him.  Personally, it feels awkward to refer to him by his full name in public.  It’s even worse to call him the pet names listed above in mixed company–particularly #5.  I need one that is mine.  Mine.

Additionally, A’s name is not able to be turned into a nickname–DRAT.

Please tell me I’m not the only one that weirdly feels this way?

Recently, I have discovered a foolproof pet name for A that is appropriate for really any situation, any audience:

THE BOSS.

Examples:

At the office: Yes I think I can work that day, but I have to talk it over with THE BOSS.

When invited to an awkward party:  Well, I think THE BOSS is waiting for me.

After another pushy salesperson tries to sell me an unnecessary credit card: I WILL SIC THE BOSS ON YOU.  AND HE IS BROWN AND GRUMPY.

Unfortunately, there is one situation in which this pet name may not work: when confronted with an overly sensitive female.

Exhibit A: “DON’T EVER LET HIM THINK THAT HE IS THE BOSS.  YOU ARE WOMAN!  YOU ARE JUST AS GOOD AS HE IS. *lady frenzy* “

All in all, this name has proven to give me an outlet for my pet name affliction, without completely emasculating the husband.  This word is almost as useful as torque!

Anyone else have any effective pet names that you use?  Anyone want to tell me I’m a lunatic today?