True Story:  The Road to hell is paved with good intentions.

My best bud and I had BIG Mother’s Day plans. We were gonna do NUTHIN.

We were going to lay around in the sun, drink some cold ones, and watch our kids play. Yes, you read correctly, beer and children, we occasionally mix them. Our men agreed (sort of) to cook and cater to us. 

Well… They began “discussing” the ribs they were going to grill us first thing in the morning…  Along with chicken wings, potato skins, salad, bread and more. Around 11am I saw them working with the meat and getting the grill going.

True Story:  We ate at 8pm. 9 hours later.

Of course, they ended up having a grill off (sword fight) over who’s ribs were going to be better. The best part? 3 men somehow managed to walk away from the grill for the last “15 critical minutes” and $100 worth of ribs were burned… Charred. Do you think beer was involved?

True Story: I had to take a nap at 5 pm because I was starved and dehydrated from having to drink beer in the sun with no food… When I woke up, the meal still wasn’t ready. Pa-leeze. Do women have to do everything???

In other news, I found a Mother’s Day “report card” that I gave my Mom circa 1982:

Cooks for me:  A+

Washes Dishes:  B

Keeps house clean:  C+  (Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree)

Fixes my clothes:  A   (What?!?!  I haven’t seen a needle and thread in that women’s hand in 34 years).

Gives me Money:  B   (Still room for improvement here).

Takes me places:  A

Let’s me go visiting:  A

Helps me with my homework:  B+

Listens to me read:  C  (Oh well, at least we have spellcheck now)

Plays with me:  A   (I don’t know about this one Mom)

Speaks kindly to me:  B   (Hmmm… More room for improvement. Not sure this is a fair question for the teachers to pose)

Takes me to church:  A+   (Yes Ma’am. You going to get your a_ _ up and get to church.)

Listens to me when I talk to her:  A-   (This actually worked to our advantage. We always knew to ask Mom for things we wanted to have or do when  she was on the phone, or reading or paying bills. You always got a “Uh, huh”… YES!)

I wrote a note on the report card:

Dear Mom,

I’d like to write a thank you note. I know it’s not too nice. But all that I could think to say is thanks!

Love, Ashley 

True Story:  Note to Mom:  C-