Hero

She wakes me up, a flurry of good morning energy.

I have no idea where she gets it from. She gave me her genes and I can barely move. Also, her own mother told me once no one dared speak to her before noon when she was a girl.

But now. She is energy.

Sometimes she poops. I know, T.M.I.
Still, I barge into her bathroom. She has ten minutes before my cheerleading practice and I need a ribbon for my hair. "Where is my navy ribbon?" I demand. She knows.

355-4000.
The number for J.C. Penney on speed dial.
She worked because men are so forgetful sometimes.
Associate number 137.
I always enjoyed the discount.
Penney's is still my department store of choice.

Once she told me that she cleans and launders in the morning and in the afternoon because she refuses to sit home on the weekends. That's her time. Her time with us - to run the places we wanna go. To live the life of our her dreams.

Helter Skelter is a movie.
DON'T WATCH IT!
She was awake for (literally) three days straight with me after that.

748-9288.
R.S.C. Transportation.
"May I speak with Sherry Williams, please?"

Mama, I have something to tell you.
It's not good. You're not gonna like it.

She took it in stride.
My hero.
My mama.

Literally minutes after posting this - how my dream of being stay-at-home mama is realized - I read the topic for tonight's Five Minute Friday post is HERO. My hero is and always will be my working mother. Thank you, Mama. You da best.