Mama's Day

I love Mother's Day. What's not to like? With any luck, I get flowers, cards, little homemade gifts from my children (which is my favorite thing to receive) and usually something chocolate. Plus, I get to sleep in late (yea!) and skip any and all chores and duties. On Sunday, Jarv made breakfast and dinner. 

Mopsy gave me a little flower pot she had decorated with little glass mosaics. QB gave me a card with a watercolor portrait of me and a 5-page story he wrote called "The Case of the Missing Jewels" -- an action-adventure tale about a shark and a piranha. Lastly, I got a "Choice Coupon" which entitles me to one of the following:

--I will turn off the TV.

--I will give you cereal in bed.

--This coupon is for scrambled eggs in bed. 

All are very tempting choices, although I'm not quite sure how I fell about two kids tromping up the stairs with cereal and milk sloshing around in a bowl and depositing it on my comforter. I asked if I could upgrade my choice to a day free of any sibling fighting. He agreed! Now we just need to get Mopsy in on the plan. I think I negotiated a pre-tty good deal for myself.

Now on to another timely matter: Dancing with the Stars will be announcing its finalists tonight! Last night I was just downright embarrassed for Ty Murray. Did you catch his little butt shimmy during his so-called salsa? You couldn't miss it with the super close-up camera work. Blech. Latin and Ty just don't mix. You can't even put this guy in the same league as Gilles or Melissa. If cowboy man doesn't hit the skids tonight, I'll be taking it out on Samantha Harris. I don't know exactly how she could be responsible for such an incredible ballroom injustice, but she's my top choice for a scapegoat. I'm fairly certain QB could conduct a smarter interview than she does. 

See you around, Ty.