By Terry R. Cassreino
This will be Pam’s first Mother’s Day as a Mother. Whoa. Hold on a minute. No jokes please. I said it is her first year as a Mom. A Mom. Get it? A Mom.
Anyway, this is Pam’s first Mother’s Day as a Mom and Camryn already has the day planned. Camryn is planning a Major League surprise for her Mommy and Pam is going to have a cow. Shhhhh. I’ll fill you in. Just don’t tell Pam. She needs a surprise.
First, Camryn plans to cry her butt off at about 6 a.m. Sunday morning.
Camryn, in between hearty laughs and a few swigs of Boone’s Farm Strawberry wine, told me the other day she plans to wake up at 6, reach over the top of her crib, grab the wireless intercom her Uncle Pauly gave us and scream as loud as she can in the microphone to wake Mom. Then, after Mom’s eardrums burst, she plans to tear-up the crib’s mattress by using that switchblade I gave her two weeks ago. She plans to take the stuffing, throw it over the side of the bed and then cut an “escape hatch” in the bottom so she can get out.
Whoa, I said. You can’t do that. We just bought that damn bed and it was delivered here for you while we were in
Camryn smiled broadly, then laughed. Ha, she said. Yeah, right. She’s in her element now, she told me, and she didn’t care what I thought. This was going to be a Mother’s Day her Mommy would never forget.
So after staging a prison break, Camryn plans to brew a pot of coffee, cook pancakes in the kitchen (even though she can’t reach the stove yet, so don’t go there), scramble a “dozen or so” eggs and create what she called “hell on earth in the kitchen.”
And that’s only for starters. Apparently, Camryn is planning some sort of afternoon beer party in the back yard with neighborhood infants – one of those “infant only swingers parties” in which babies choose which adults they want as their parents for a week.
And it’s all for Mommy, she said.
She can’t wait.
I can’t either.
Copyright 2006 by Terry R. Cassreino
