After earning $90 at my sister’s garage sale, we celebrated Mothers Day on Sunday at her house. She offered to serve up a brunch and boy were we glad she did. It was delicious! But I could eat breakfast food at anytime of the day.
Queen P. (Which kind of sounds like Queen Bee, and that would work too.)
Afterwards, we played a game in which we asked questions about different stages of her “motherhood”. Some stories were told that I had never heard before: that her friends and her used to have sock-throwing parties (they were my age), that she worked in a particular school district, and various other embarrassing stories of her childhood.
Here are somethings that I do know though: she laughs a lot; she swing-dances; she is social, but enjoys her alone time; she was stubborn in her youth; she appreciates the arts; she flips her head sometimes as though she has long hair; she used to say “gee” in order to change conversation topics; she stands for what she believes in, even when she’s the minority; she teases people and laughs when she is teased; she’s a worry-wart; gay men are drawn to her; she always says: ‘You may quote me on that’, ‘You can put that on my gravestone’, and ‘You better be glad I have a sense of humor’; she is a thesbian; she is diplomatic; after the first sip of a cold beer, she always says “aaaah”; her fingernails have been filed in the same way since she was young: oval; she isn’t afraid to be self-aware; she tolerated my women’s studies days in college; she is a quiet leader; she is self-deprecating; she’s a reader; she likes the Backstreet Boys; and she’s my friend. That’s something we both know. Thanks for everything, mom.
cuethebanjo.com 
well said! love you mom!