Happy Mothers Day! I hope everyone is enjoying their day, whether or not you're a mom. Personally, I've made a pact with myself to not lift a finger all day long. I got off to a good start with breakfast in bed accompanied by my squealing monsters. It was lovely.
Now I share with you a picture of my own mom. I'm not sure how old she is in this picture, but I think it's safe to say that she was in her gawky teenage years.
Contrary to the above picture, I grew up thinking I had the most beautiful mother in the world. In the looks department, however, I took after my Dad. Dang it.
And no, I don't look like Spock, but I do have my Dad's crazy, maniacal eyebrows. The high maintenance kind that require daily attention. And there's no working around that Jack Nicholson bend there at the top. It's a curse. I'm the one on the bottom left, but the curse doesn't really rear it's ugly head until I'm a little older.
My Mama Llama has very dainty features and I . . . do not.
My Mama Llama has a twisted sense of humor and, guess what, I got that. I remember as a kid, probably about six or seven, when she hid in our bedroom and played a little trick on us. My sister had this three foot tall stuffed tiger, and my Mama Llama stuck it's head out from behind our bedroom door and made growling noises, like the tiger was going to come and eat us. Well, my sister tends to be a Chicken Butt Drama Llama with regards to all things supernatural, so she came a little bit unglued, which only encouraged my Mama Llama more.
I, however, being the skeptical control freak that I am, got increasingly irate with my mother. In one part of my brain I knew it was her, but in another chicken butt part of my brain I was freaking myself out thinking maybe the tiger really did come to life and eat my Mama Llama. Oh crap! We're all going to die!
Then I would get mad and yell "STOP IT! YOU STOP IT RIGHT NOW! YOU COME OUT AND STOP TEASING US! I KNOW IT'S YOU, MOM!" I think I just said that last part to convince myself. All the while my sister was freaking out next to me, becoming more and more hysterical, which just made me more and more mad. We provided my Mama Llama with double the fun.
Ah . . . Good times.
My Mama Llama started young too. She had a chicken butt sister, Christine, who she spent hours torturing. I recall her telling us many times, with a little sparkle in her eyes, about the time she flushed all of Christine's Buster Crabbe pictures down the toilet, just because she looooooooved him. I would have done the same to my sister and her Captain Kirk pictures, except she could kick my butt.
And I was afraid of her. Details.
So, I give you evidence, this explains why I am the sick, twisted individual that I am.
So now, in observance of Mother's Day, I think I'll go animate a certain freakish purple dinosaur that must still be around here somewhere. My own little Avatar of sorts.
BWAH HA HA HA!
I love being a mom.