i don't think he meant it quite that way...

for about a week before mother's day, there was much abuzz in our house. i was commanded not to enter certain rooms except with my eyes closed, asked what kind of waffles were my favorite (i had a proustian moment as i recalled the pecan waffles with cherry coulis that i once had at the now defunct wild iris cafe in madison, wisconsin), and highly encouraged to sleep in on the day in question.  on sunday, i awoke to find bill gone to work, the kids gone down to the TV room to watch cartoons, and not so much as a cold cup of coffee waiting for me by the microwave.  sigh.

however, i was treated to a really wonderful day.  i got to start in on my dream of building square foot garden boxes for the front yard (we would have finished them had not my powerdrill battery peetered on out on me), we attended a lovely brunch hosted by friends where i was relieved of the duty of tending to the several teary breakdowns of my children, and i was showered with a whole bunch of homemade presents - poetry, re-gifted mardigras necklaces, a couple of drawings, and a special gift from morgan, with this note (follow along phonetically):

Dear Mommy,

here aer some bath salts

for you

ples tac a bath

Love

Morgan