Why don’t boys get it? 

I have three sons and a daughter.  My daughter, the youngest of my children, is a mum now too and this year she couldn’t make it home for Mother’s Day.  Therefore any celebrations were left, hopefully, in the hands of her siblings.

Number 1 Son is 25 years old and lives in the same town; Number 2 Son is 23 years old and lives three hours away; and, Number 3 Son is 21 years old and still lives at home.

I don't want for presents on Mother's Day.  My secret wish is a simple get-together with my family for brunch or lunch ... perhaps at one of the many cafes and restaurants which overlook the beautiful Pacific Ocean not too far from home.  That isn't too much to ask, is it?

On Saturday, there were some promising signs when, during a phone call from Number 1, he let it slip that Number 2 was coming home.  "Ah-huh! This is it!",  I thought. "This year my boys have planned a surprise!"  My hopes were up for a lovely Mother's Day with my three sons.

Not long after the phone call from Number 1, Number 3 came downstairs with his backpack and announced he was staying with his mate for the weekend.  Huh? Why was he going away for the weekend when Number 2 was apparently coming home? What about Mother's Day? Oh, well, go with the flow I figured.  It could be part of the ploy.  You know, let her think nothing special is happening and then tomorrow we all turn up to take her out for the big surprise lunch!

Late on Saturday night, a knock on the door ann0unced the arrival of Number 2.  I was very glad to see him but I had decided beforehand not to pretend that I didn't know he was coming home because it was likely he would find out that I knew anyway.  He was disappointed that I knew.  I felt sorry for him.  I told him not to worry about it.  I was just so happy he had come home for Mother's Day.  A big smile came across his face and he told me he had a present for me. I knew, instinctively, what it was .... a large plastic bag of washing!

Sunday morning arrived in all its glory!  Crisp air, clear skies and sparkling sunshine! But beyond that, it was to be no different to any other Sunday morning.

As the morning wore on, hope for a special mother's day with my boys was waning but not yet gone.  Brunch obviously wasn't planned but lunch was still a possibility ... wasn't it?

I received a phone call from Number 3 wishing me a "Happy Mother's Day" and letting me know he "would be home sometime tonight".  Hope was now all but a glimmer in the distance.

Not long later, Number 1 arrived.  He held in his hand an unwrapped box of some of my favourite chocolates.  Aw, how sweet. Then, seemingly, in one swift move, he had given me the chocolates, a quick kiss on the cheek and said, "Happy Mother's Day, Mum" as he headed for the fridge!

Arggh!  Boys! You gotta love 'em!