My son aka Mancub, is nearly 20 years old. Just the fact that I still refer to him on the blog as Mancub tells you that I'm still quite protective. When I stop quickly in the car I still fling my right arm in front of his chest. You know, the original safety restraint.
Every year he gives me the same thing on Mother's Day. Nothing. If I remind him what day it is, he'll wish me a happy Mother's Day and go on about his business of playing video games or sorting through his YuGiOH! cards.
Wait. Before your eyes get lodged in your skull from rolling them, let me clarify that I'm not complaining.
Every single day of the year my kid celebrates me. As I said earlier, he's nearly 20 years old. One of the first things he does when he sees me after waking is gives me a hug. He wants to. Whenever I leave for work, or he gets out of the car to go to classes at the college he declares that he loves me. He says it in public! Within minutes of me coming in the door after work he always asks, "How was your day?" He genuinely wants to know.
Mancub works diligently to do well in college. He spends hours working on essays, projects, etc...
He asks for very little. He can sense when I'm stressed out. He does the dishes without asking. Dinner is often made for me. He'll refill my glass with ice water or wine if the occasion calls for it. Without a grumble or groan he simply does it.
There've been many times when I wasn't sure how we'd make it from paycheck to paycheck. Now that he is older I share with him some of strains we face financially. To that he will embrace me and say, "we always find a way." And he is right.
Happy Mother's day!