The Best Mother’s Day Gift. Ever.

I remember straightening up around me, primping while fidgeting, my hands barely able to clasp the towels, or the shifted makeup. I almost dropped the compact. A broken mirror would’ve been horrible, to say the least. What would that have meant?

It took all of me not to look it’s way. It sat there, taunting me to look it’s way. C’mon, you know you want to. No! A little bit more time. Just a little. Keep busy. I could feel my heart through my cheeks, reddened with adrenalin, heart rattling against my rib cage, trying to break free and check itself since I wouldn’t. I would wait.

I left, torturing myself with every step, I exhaled while slumping along, feet slithering against the cheap carpet provided by the military. I sat, perched on my bed, staring towards the light from the other room. I swear it had hands waving me towards it, sweet whispery digits enticing me to cheat. Just one peek. What’ll it hurt?

The clock nearly took me out when I tried to look at it without actually looking at it, hurling it’s angry numbers at me. I had more time. More. Dammit! Don’t cheat. Just wait, it’ll be worth it, you’ll see.

Oh torturous impatience clanging around inside me, seeping out through my pores, I began to sweat, licking my upper lip, wiping my crumpled brow, rocking to myself against the poor excuse for a bed on the miserable carpet.

How. Much. Longer.

As if it clicked, time ticked down, the minute changed, the race was on. Only my feet almost gave way. The room seemed so far, yet I was there before the thought of a blink occurred. It stood before me, welcoming me. The warmth. Oh the warmth. Come see, it’s alright.

Three minutes is so long. Sitting propped on the porcelain, laying in wait. It read like a foreign language to me, a rush of stars came over me, blinding me yet my hand was before my face. Was I holding it or it hold me?

Get ready, momma. She’s on her way.


And I’m thankful everyday.

Cheaper Than Therapy

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