Two Broke Boys

This is what Mother’s Day looks like when you have sons, not daughters, and both are in college and between jobs.  You don’t have an elegant lunch at Green Pastures. You don’t get a card with lots of flowery sentiments.  You simply hang out together for four hours , watch the basketball playoffs and watch your dogs play-fight.  Jackson had a Taco Bell gift card, and when dinner time approached, he graciously offered to pick me up a burrito.  I accepted.  I loved every minute of it.  Every year I am more and more conscious of the fact that my job with these boys is essentially over, and that any time spent with them is a gift.

Later in the evening, I took my new favorite course, Stacy Park and the attendant hills.  Man, that really burns up your legs, but if it’s hot outside and I’m going to be sweating anyway, I prefer to really go for it and get drenched. 

I took off Monday, as usual, and took a personal day off work today.  Banks and I did Stacy Park again in the morning, which was lucky, because it’s been raining pretty steadily since then. I left for what was my real reason for taking off today – getting a dress for Allison’s wedding.  What I ended up with was okay, but here was the real adventure:  I tried on a pair of size 10 jeans, and they fit.  At least the legs fit perfectly, I have a little work to do above that.  I’m kind of still in shock.  For someone who’s been resigned to a matronly size 16 for most of the past decade, it’s unbelievable.  But I’m very aware of the relativity of it all.  Remember in The Devil Wears Prada, when Andi defensively told the Stanley Tucci character that she was a size six, and he sneered “Six?  That’s the new 14.”