I miss my mommy

One of the things I miss most about not being in Miami, is that I don’t get to spend time with my mom. My mom is one of my best friends. She knows how to push my buttons both good and bad.

Mommy, if I were with you today, I’d warm up your coffee, pour your no-pulp orange juice and heat your oatmeal (how you drink all that and don’t spend the rest of the day on the toilet, I don’t know). Then we would take our time getting dressed, first spending the morning in our PJs with glasses on. We’d make plans for lunch, but without time constraints. When our stomach pangs hit, we’d get in the car (I’d drive because I hate the way you drive) and we’d go somewhere and split an appetizer and entrée. You’d pay but you’d need my help figuring out the tip. Too bad I’m bad at math, but it usually ends up being fortunate for the server. Then we would go shopping. We’d hit TJMaxx and Marshalls where you’d spend at least 30 minutes scouring the purse section. You’d find the one high-end bag hidden behind the dumpy ones and then you’d give me first dibs on it if I wanted it. Then it would be time for a dessert snack. An ice cream cone would make you happy—coffee ice cream.