Saturday, September 10, 2005
Saturdays have become our yard cleaning days. Now what kid looks forward to a Saturday morning clean fest, eh? None that I know and I happen to know twelve. So when I created this new family tradition this summer, I decided that I would get up early and have a nice hot breakfast ready for everyone, with coffee and bacon smells calling everyone out of bed, instead of me with a cup of water poised just so over one's forehead.
So far - it has been well received and everyone enjoys the special ‘breakies’ I have been concocting, pancakes and fried ham on the side, or fresh bread toasted with eggs sunny side up - you get the idea. Right out of Little Farmer, by Laura Ingles Wilder, only not quite on the same scale. Same menu, only spread over several weekends, not served all on the same Saturday morning.
As some may know, I have been ill. Quite ill actually, so the groceries had really petered out and there was no juice to go with the hot breakfast I was planning on, so I slipped off with cash in my pocket and walked over to Ahmed's Gas Station. As I made my way through the crackly dry, freshly mowed field that lies between us and the gas station I glanced down at the bright yellow mustard flowers. Despite the heat and dryness of the season they were in abundance.
Suddenly I thought of Emma, my soon to be three year old. Actually I thought of all my children when they were of the flower bearing age - sidling up to me poesy in hand. I remembered the delight that always danced across their faces when I accepted this token of love with a smile and a thank you. I thought; ‘How fun it would be to give Emma a little token of love for a change. Children take so much delight in this; it must be so special to them.’ I chuckled mentally at the thought of her face when I surprised her with a little handful of flowers.
I quickly made my purchases of juice, greeted Ahmed and hurried back to the field where I carefully chose a few buds of yellow. I made sure they were long enough to put in a glass of water. When I entered the house through the back porch, Emma was sitting at the computer with one of her siblings playing a PBS kids game online.
"Emma," I called coyly, "Look what Mummy has for you."
She scrambled down off the chair and with her face lit with expectation she hurried to me. I showed her the flowers. "I brought you some flowers Emma." She drew in her breath; "For ME?"
"Yes - for you!"
Anna, twelve, asked her; "What do you say Emma?"
"Your Welcome Mummy!" she breathed as she started to show everyone her flowers before feeding them to Finnegan.
Hmmm, yes. Thank YOU Emma, I thought, YOU give me so much pleasure! Thank YOU! So really - her welcome was quite appropriate! Read more!
Posted by mum2twelve at 6:21 PM