Ahem, A Poem For Mom

Since I’m a sorry excuse for a daughter and didn’t get my mom a Mother’s Day Present, I thought I’d reprise the poem I wrote for her when I was a young and aspiring poet.

Moms are specal
Moms are nice
Moms take care fo you
And I like moms

To celebrate the day here, I’m taking Caroline grocery shopping. It’s not my first choice in Mother’s Day celebratory activities, but our refrigerator is looking bare and I’m almost out of ice cream.
If we both make it out of the commissary with our heads still attached to our bodies and sanity still intact, I might consider treating us to some lunch. It’s been two weeks since Caroline’s last McNugget and since we’re such classy folks (who needs some fancy brunch!), I just might indulge her. Nothing says “Happy Mother’s Day” like the smell of fried food and a useless plastic toy that sits unused in your purse for a few weeks until you finally throw it away in sheer annoyance.
I hate Happy Meal toys.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
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