Jul 22
“How much do you love me.” She whispers as I wipe sandy uneven bangs off of sweaty forehead. “So much, mom. So much.” Her smile catches her ears. I rarely see her like this and every time it involves a surprise. No wonder, as an adult, I deeply yearn for the people I love to surprise me.
My unrealistic expectations of other people as an adult are to blame for the love my mother gave me as a child, and still to this day. No one can compete with the shock element of my mom.
“Go look on your bed!” she shrieks. I sprint to my quilted dusty rose second-hand comforter. There in the tufts I find the best item on earth as a 5th grade girl—A complete collection of lip-smackers, necklace with attachment for chaps-ticks included. Yes, there was Dr. Pepper. You bet your ***** there was bubble gum. A complete delectable smorgasbord of balm delight. I definitely love her more after this. I forgive her for making me “set a good example for my brothers” the night before.
I rip plastic casing and pucker up for the first waxy stick pushed on pre-pubescent lip. Duh, I chose Dr. Pepper. Who doesn’t want to have their kiss taste like a fast-food refreshment? There she stands, the Farrah Fawcett, Sun-maid raisin queen look alike. My angel of a mother.
She watched as I threw myself on springy bed and layer flavor after flavor of Lipsmacker on lip and throw stick after stick up in the air like a lip connoisseur billionaire. She saw me rip the plastic wrappers with canines. She cringed and told me not to use my teeth, accepting it anyway with glory. That sparkle shows up in her eye and she knows I will be lining those lip balms up from my favorite to least favorite around the shoestring necklace included. She invites the true fact that I won’t sass her back for a month. I will do my homework tomorrow without asking and I will not hit my brother in the ***** before dinner. She knows. All hail Lipsmacker and all flavors. The ultimate collection lending me a heiress at recess. I am eternally beholden to her. I look up at her as she asks, “Do you like it?” I hug her calves and sigh, “I love it.”
My unrealistic expectations of other people as an adult are to blame for the love my mother gave me as a child, and still to this day. No one can compete with the shock element of my mom.
“Go look on your bed!” she shrieks. I sprint to my quilted dusty rose second-hand comforter. There in the tufts I find the best item on earth as a 5th grade girl—A complete collection of lip-smackers, necklace with attachment for chaps-ticks included. Yes, there was Dr. Pepper. You bet your ***** there was bubble gum. A complete delectable smorgasbord of balm delight. I definitely love her more after this. I forgive her for making me “set a good example for my brothers” the night before.
I rip plastic casing and pucker up for the first waxy stick pushed on pre-pubescent lip. Duh, I chose Dr. Pepper. Who doesn’t want to have their kiss taste like a fast-food refreshment? There she stands, the Farrah Fawcett, Sun-maid raisin queen look alike. My angel of a mother.
She watched as I threw myself on springy bed and layer flavor after flavor of Lipsmacker on lip and throw stick after stick up in the air like a lip connoisseur billionaire. She saw me rip the plastic wrappers with canines. She cringed and told me not to use my teeth, accepting it anyway with glory. That sparkle shows up in her eye and she knows I will be lining those lip balms up from my favorite to least favorite around the shoestring necklace included. She invites the true fact that I won’t sass her back for a month. I will do my homework tomorrow without asking and I will not hit my brother in the ***** before dinner. She knows. All hail Lipsmacker and all flavors. The ultimate collection lending me a heiress at recess. I am eternally beholden to her. I look up at her as she asks, “Do you like it?” I hug her calves and sigh, “I love it.”
