I can't have given birth to FOUR of Satan's spawn! It's physically impossible. Pass me the tequila and leave me the f*ck alone.
Well thank god that day is over and done with. Mother’s day is a great idea in concept. It’s a day that we all show appreciation and love towards Mom for everything she puts up with and does for us the other 364 days a year. In all honestly, she probably deserves a month-long celebration.
The reason she doesn’t get a month-long celebration, however, is because it would goddamned kill Dads like me. See, I’m from the school of thought that you can take her out to a restaurant for a meal any day of the week. Unless you’re some kind of asshole, which I am, but I’m not that kind of asshole. I take care of my wife as best I can on her special day because she’s managed to put up with not only me but our four boys as well.
So, her day starts out with breakfast. Banana pancakes and bacon with blueberry syrup. Sounds simple enough but it takes a damned hour to prepare and get on the table. Then the boys and me take care of the dishes, because she shouldn’t have to fool with that shit on Mother’s Day.
From there, I began prepping dinner. Dinner consisted of Honey glazed, apple-wood smoked chicken, buffalo chicken pasta salad, corn on the cob and country apple dumplings for dessert. Now I’m not too sure if you know how to smoke chickens, but it takes a long damn time. Nearly four hours on the smoker. That left me time to get the pool opened per her request, so we can swim in it sometime this Summer.
After working from 9am until almost 8pm, I was bushed. I can’t do this shit much longer. It’s too much like a real job, which I don’t have and don’t want. Working at home lets me set my hours and work at my pace. Mother’s day was a marathon day for me, and I’m just not built for marathons. Hell, I’m not built for short walks.
In all, I love my wife dearly and would do anything for her. I just hope she doesn’t ask for this treatment again until next year, when I’ve rested up.
