Every once in a while I am reminded that my limitations are not that of others—and that’s OK.
Take this past weekend, as an example. The girls and I went to my good friend’s house for her son’s sixth birthday party. My friend and her family have just moved into this big, beautiful home only days before she is to have their third child. As she is waddling around in her spotless palace, setting out food for 25 guests, I spotted the cake that she made for her son. Yes, from scratch. It was the Empire State Building. Granted, it did not look like the Empire State Building, but it was a 3-story attempt at the landmark nonetheless. A three-story attempt from scratch that she made with her son’s help in the kitchen she just moved into that week while she is nine months pregnant with boxes piled high and a million things to do besides plan a birthday party. OK, so she’s a really good mom.
After the cake was cut, her son began opening up his presents. I had to smile while I watched him because every single gift he received made him happy. He would jump up and down and then run over and hug the person that gave it to him. It was sweet. He's a very grateful and well behaved child. He would never turn up his nose at a gift or say something like “We already have this, Mom” or “I don’t like that color." No, no, no…his mother has raised him very well.
As he was opening the gift we brought, my little darling that eats store bought cake on her birthday and was about to prove that our manners aren’t as stellar, stood up and said, “Hey Mommy! Isn’t that the game I got for Christmas that you said was too young for me so you are giving it to him?”.
Ugh.
I am not nine months pregnant. I did not just move into a new house. I did not bake a national landmark. I did not fix dinner for 25 people. My ankles are not swollen. All I had to do was buy a gift, drive there and smile.
Damn…foiled again.
