Whenever we'd go visit Mom in South Carolina, one of her favorite outings was to the animal shelter with the kids. In that context, it was really just a matter of time before we brought something home with us. To our home, not my mother's. Yes, we see how that turned out.
A few months ago when Louie growled at me and I was pondering his long-term fate with our family, my mother quipped, "Get rid of him! You have enough happening in your life!" I think her exact suggestion was to bring him to the pound and drop him off one day when the kids are in school and if they ask about him, just say "Oh Louie? He went to live on a farm!"
"But Mom" ... I told her. "You're the one that suggested we get a dog in the first place!" Mom wasted no time defending her position, "That's right and you did get a dog. But it didn't work out, so now it's time to get rid of him. Bye Bye doggie!"
(Don't worry, Louie. I've got your back. You're not going to the farm.)
(At least not today.)
This afternoon, the girls received this letter from my mother.
Dear Carolyn Grace and Elizabeth Jeanne:
Your Mom's sister, Marylou, made this hat for you - - whoever it fits. I thought it might be too small for your 8-year old heads. If that is the case, you can send it to Marylou's grandchild, Rachael, who is 2-years old. Do you write in school like I do? When I was a little girl, we had to practice writing like this: Mary Louise Coleman. Please write to me and tell me if you like this hat and I will try to make more for you or your GUINEA PIG!
Love, NoniGuinea Pig? Whoa, wait a minute. The acquisition of a guinea pig is NOT a confirmed deal. There might not be ANY guinea pigs. I'm looking in the tea leaves and .... nope ... I'm not seeing a GP anywhere in our immediate future. As such, there might not be any need for guinea pig HATS.
My mother is a hoot. Funniest of all, perhaps, is that the letter is written on the blank page of an undergraduate admissions form for Clemson University.
Mom, do you have something to tell me?