This is the first year that I’ve been with Mother Toto on Mother’s Day. She’s a stay-at-home mom now, but it’s only because I’m now her stay-at-home-son. It’s been an adjustment for both of us.
She was napping on the couch one afternoon. When I approached her, she growled, without even raising her head or opening her eyes, “Not now, Petey. I’m sleeping!”
I made a quick u-turn.
Today, Grandma was looking forward to a Mother’s Day photoshoot. But she discovered a genetic connection between my mother and me. Toto had rolled in poop all over herself, more than I ever had in my life. In fact, I had never considered a full-body roll…
Grandma quickly corrected my thinking, “Don’t even THINK about it.”
Sometimes a son has to step in for his mother. Mother Toto wanted to come inside. I interceded for her, but Grandma said, “No.”
Me: “I’m just saying, Mother. It’s best not to disagree with Grandma. Especially when you’re covered in poop.”
Grandma agreed to bathe Mother Toto for the photoshoot. But Mother found Grandma’s dog bathing procedures disturbing. I explained that I’m very familiar with the cold water from the hose, the washtub, and the lecture about choices.
“Next time you consider rolling in poop, you might want to remember the bath that’s going to follow…” Grandma admonished kindly. That’s the hardest part, Grandma is so sweet when she scolds, it makes you feel double bad.
Anyway, once all was cleaned up, I dressed up in my deputy uniform and invited Mother Toto to the garden. Handing her a red rose, I said, “Happy Mother’s Day!”
“Thank you, Son.”
Then of course, I got embarrassed and had to clown around.
Mother straightened me out quick on that.
But she seemed real pleased about the rose.
On The Farm, when it comes to animals, it’s all about the mothers.
Hens and chicks.
Cats and kittens on the way.
Mothers and their boys. That is, Mother Toto and me.
There are sisters and aunts who can nurture and help someone grow. And then, especially, there are Grandmothers who can be there in a way that mothers cannot. Since moms have to work so hard at enforcing rules, Grandmothers can relax sometimes and then have more patience.
My Grandma is a real mother and real grandmother as well. I don’t know much about that part. When it comes up, she just says, “Past life, Petey. Past life.”
But she showed me a picture of when she was a young mother with her boys.
Had I first seen this photo before meeting her, I would have run the other way. Grandma not putting up with nonsense has a long history.
All I know is that Grandma has been very patient with me, taking the time to explain things so that I can get along better in life.
Because of that, I love her so much. I gave her two yellow roses. They are connected to a stem that has only a few thorns. Just like our hearts.
Happy Mother’s Day, Grandma!