My Mom

This is a picture of me and my mom.

Here's another one.

Mom and I are very close. Can you tell?

There are few people I enjoy more than my mom.

Mom’s a little on the goofy side. She's what I like to call uninhibited. Just ask her to sing a song, tell you a joke, or do her horse whinny. She will. Why? Because Mom loves to entertain people. She taught me the Charleston, the words to "Mares Eat Oats," and how to laugh at myself. Mom’s always been loads of fun.

But that's not the only reason I enjoy my mom.

You see, no one understands me better than she does. Whether we’re talking about how cold our feet get in the winter or what it’s like being married to grumpy old men (sorry guys), my mom and I seem to see most things the same way.

But that's not the only reason I enjoy my mom.

Mom’s really good at stuff. Like making prune-filled Kolacke (they taste better than they sound), or wrapping a new born baby up in a receiving blanket, or coaxing just about any sort of green thing to bring forth flowers or produce. Almost everything I know that’s of any real value, I learned from my mom.

But that's not the only reason I enjoy my mom.

Mom makes me feel loved. If I’m sad about something, she’s sympathetic. If I’m having an especially good day, Mom celebrates right along with me. Even when I tell her long-winded stories about my boring trivial life, she actually pays attention. Her hugs and kisses make me know that no matter what, I’ll always be precious to her.

And she’ll always be precious to me.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

You’re the best!