The Truth About My Mom

This past weekend, I spent a day and evening at the cabin with my mom and sisters. There were a couple of friends there as well, so we couldn't help but regale our audience with tales of our past, whether distant past or recent past.
My mom said we always tell her she won't be remembered for cooking, but what can she do? I have actually been giving that a lot of thought. And the answer is EVERYTHING!
When we were growing up, my mom was a full time teacher and still managed to raise four little girls, three of which were born one right after another, one a year for three years. (Yes, it's true. I am the good child, waiting four years before making my appearance!) Not only did she do the grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, rolling up four heads in pink curlers every Saturday night so our hair would look nice for church, but she also built us Barbie furniture, made clothes, fixed our bikes and even managed to create a few inventions of her own, like the bicycle built for two. It may not have ever turned out the way she wanted it, but her persistence is the lesson that stuck.
I think back on my childhood and the biggest thing I remember is humor. That's probably why I put such stock in a good sense of humor. My mom has always told me (especially in the past few years) that I am exactly like my daddy. While I consider that a huge compliment, there is one thing I believe I got from Mom. My sense of humor.
When I remember the funny parts of my childhood, my mom was always a part of it. I think my daddy had a deep appreciation for "the funny," but I don't think he himself was all that funny. I really can't think of any funny things involving him except his reaction to my mom's antics.
I remember the look on his face as my mom "balleted" while cooking dinner. I remember his disbelief when the neighbor told him about her doing cartwheels in the front yard after tucking her dress into her pantyhose. The look of astonishment as she zoomed past him on a skateboard in K-Mart. I guess if the truth be told, I may be 90% like my daddy, but the other 10% is pure mom. She still makes me laugh and even puts up with being the butt of the joke (or the uvula as the case may be)!
So Mom, while I hate dedicating an entire blog to you :-) I love you and thank you from the bottom of my funny bone!