Happy Birthday, Mom!

Growing up, my brothers and I used to take turns having to do the after dinner chores. One night you would wash dishes, one night you would dry and put away dishes, and one night you were off. And lather, rinse, repeat. (You only got out of this if you "cooked" dinner...see previous post for how often I was allowed to cook). Needless to say, none of us liked this too much. I mean, really, who likes chores?

I can remember very clearly one summer night...My brothers and I were arguing about whose turn it was to do what and we were obviously delaying the inevitable. We were procrastinating like only my family can, when all of a sudden my mom had had enough. She snapped. She starts grabbing dishes and heads to the back door. Curious, we follow. She opens the screen door...and starts wailing the dishes across the yard while screaming at the top of her lungs muttering under her breath. Was she done? Nope. She goes back for more! And again, until the sink is empty. We were dumbfounded. And speechless (another trait not particularly common in my family). I'm pretty sure we eventually did the dishes, though...

We tell this story often and I know it embarrasses the hell out of mom but when we tell it we laugh our butts off. Every time.

Thanks, Mom, for making it OK to lose your cool once in awhile as a mom...because sometimes I really wanna throw the dishes out the back door...

Happy Birthday, Grandma Grandma!