Mom still tries to clean me up. And occasionally, shut me up. Here, she attempts to do both, knowing full-well she’ll succeed at neither.
I love this about my Mom. I love that she still tries. Even when the task is Sisyphean, the outcome doomed, and her best-efforts guaranteed to fall short, I love that she’s always there with a paper towel and a bucket of hope.
Thanks Mom, and Happy Mothers Day.