Now, I hate Mother’s Day. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Mom, I just have issues with Mother’s Day with the whole you know, not getting to have kids of my own, infertility crap. Needless to say I was not looking forward to Mother’s Day, I had my pity party on Thursday of last week.
Saturday night I went to do groceries, and Tre came along with me. I did a major grocery run and then I ran to get some take-out for us. Tre was good the whole time, helping me pick stuff up, asking me “Is this on the list?” when it came to things that he wanted (yes, I use the excuse, no that’s not on the list for things that he doesn’t need.)
When we were done with all the running and back in the car he asked me “Is today Mother’s Day Eve?” Well, yes it was, even if we never actually referred to it as such. He is a smart little guy though, who thinks of all holidays in terms of either Christmas or Halloween.
Back to what I was saying. He asked that, then he said to me “Happy Mother’s Day, Aunt Pooh.” My heart melted, then he said “No, Happy Aunt Pooh’s Day, my Pooh.”
Yeah, I cried. That sweet little guy made it so much easier to actually face Mother’s Day this year. I am not saying the day was great, as really it was still a day that is hard on me but, that little glimmer of him wishing his Pooh a happy day made it bearable.