Awakened this morning by the sound of a screaming teakettle, I opened my eyes half way and slumped down to the kitchen. Just after I poured myself a bracing cup of Earl Gray tea, my hunk o' burnin' love said, "Why don't you go downstairs [to the basement] and wake up your kid?"
"Why's he sleeping downstairs?" I wondered, and then somehow I knew we weren't talking about Number Two Son, but the other one--the kid who lives in Chicago. He had sneaked into the house late last night so he could surprise me this morning.*
I'm having a great Mother's Day. I hope the rest of you are equally blessed.
*All right, there was a bike race in town yesterday, and my kid was in it. (I knew about the race, but not that he was riding.) But I'm clinging to my belief that he would have come home for Mother's Day even without that inducement.