smothering sunday
Saturday, March 8th, 2008Last Sunday was Mother’s Day here in the UK and in Australia. I wasn’t expecting rose petals on my bed, but I was hoping for a morning kiss and a breakfast made by someone else besides myself. I got squat. Nada. Nil. Zilch.
Kelvin woke me up at 6am saying he wants telly. I shooed him off to his Dad who turned over and snored his way out of the situation. Long story short I got up, fixed Kelvin his brekkie, did the fry-up for myself and hubby. Then sent some friends their “Happy Mother’s Day” greetings, answered a few calls and did some calling, too.
By 10am I was already grumpy. Hubby was bug-eyed and was wondering why I was being irrational. My so sweet a husband said that he sent his greetings to our friends and refrained from greeting me because he was holding out til lunch time. I don’t know where he gets this crazy idea that it will be a better surprise for me, when he was only going to say “happy mother’s day, mahal” to me. It’s not as if he was going to give me a 10-carat diamond ring. (more…

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