...aren't they? They somehow, through an act of God, spit you out, then proceed to take care of you at every turn for 18 years. Changing your poopie diapers, washing your mud soaked uniforms, and picking up your dirty socks. Care is in their nature. And whenever you return to the empty nest they find occasion to make your favorite food, whether it's chicken and broccoli spaghetti or buttermilk pancakes or awesome sauce p&b and j with crushed potato chips.They shield you periodically from the ruggedness of your father knowing when to assuage a tough little league loss with nothing more than a "next time" or keeping the mistake of a detention "just between us."
Moms I salute your patience, your kindness, your skill, your yang and most importantly your love. Moms I salute you.
