10 May 2013

Post #84

My dear cousin Becca told me I should do a Mother's Day blog.  Usually these posts are spur of the moment, as I have never been able to plan the unpredictability of my life...bunch of bullshit.  However, I felt this was for a pretty damn wonderful cause.  So, this one is for the moms.

Washing machine vs. hand wash.  I know what you are thinking "shut the fuck up about the damn machine",  trust me this will be the last time I mention it.   It serves a point for shit's sake.  For the past couple of weeks I have been hand washing all my clothes...and by ALL I mean the clothes that I desperately need to look presentable at work and the undergarments that go with.  Let me tell you, my hands feel like I have been working in a garden for at least 2 years and 24 hours and look like the skeletal paws of the dude from "Tales From the Crypt."  My last batch of washing consisted of two shirts and two pair of skivvies.  That's when it hit me, I'm kind of a little bitch.  There was a life before modern electronic appliances.  Where laundry was always done with tender loving care.  I have to say right now, fuck that shit.  I felt like a toddler without their iPad.

Madness!

I pondered this revelation over a lovely episode of "Chopped" whilst dining on a delicious dinner of gazpacho, and by gazpacho?  What I really mean is a bowl of hot salsa...dusted with some sea salt.  That's right, I ate a bowl of fucking salsa for dinner, I had nothing else in my fridge.  I was too busy laboring to go to the store, plus my wine was really tasting cold and comforting. And for the record, I thought I was using the ingredients in a clever way, I would win "Chopped" so fucking hard.  Moving on, it made me really appreciate my mom.  How hard she worked to raise my sister and I, as I know it couldn't have been easy.  She cooked, baked, washed, loved, yelled, cried, and worked for us.  I also know she would have grabbed my bowl of gourmet, hand-mixed, gazpacho and finished the whole damn thing.  That's what my mom does, she makes me feel like I have my shit figured out when I most certainly do not.  So, to the mother who can use the f-bomb more times in under a minute than anyone else on the planet, seriously...I think she could win the Guinness Book of World's Record.  Happy Mother's Day, in my opinion you are doing it right.  


Love you forever and forever love you with all my heart to infinity stand…loheha.

To all the ladies in my life who comprimised their Vee Quivas for the gift of a child,

Katie E. Eshelman

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