I celebrated Mother's Day yesterday running for my life from flying paint balls. Okay, actually I was mainly hiding behind things from flying paint balls. Mike loves to play paint ball and he somehow talked me and six of our neighbors into going with him yesterday. And it was a lot of fun! I did learn something about myself though. I would never make it in a combat situation. I would die. Unless I could just bunker down somewhere and wait out the war. And I'm pretty sure they don't encourage hiding in the armed forces. So I'm thankful to my hubby and people like him who served their time and even went to war for our freedom. You are awesome.
(That's not a picture of Saturn. That's my thigh. There are two more of those welts where that came from.)
We played four games yesterday and I survived with five visible wounds to my legs and the memory of being shot in the head and directly in the face. Let me tell you something. The paint in paint balls does not taste good. I recommend keeping your mouth closed if you go play. Mike said something about teaching me cover and concealment techniques before we go play again. This is starting to feel like it might turn into some work on my part.
I may have mentioned something yesterday to the kids about wanting them to bring me a Starbucks vanilla latte and cheese danish in bed today. It's a good thing Mike was there for that conversation because otherwise I probably would have ended up with two kids waking me up at 6am with a piece of cheese on a napkin. However, my hubby didn't disappoint. Not only did they bring me the latte and danish, they also brought me a beautiful rose and a poem.
I took the kids to church this morning and treated us to Schlotzsky's for lunch. I had a coupon. And if you know me you know I love Schlotzsky's. It has been a lovely day.
Now, for my mama. I was blessed with a wonderful mother who showed me what a mother's love should look like. Sometimes warm and cuddly, sometimes fierce and prickly. She has always been a great mother and wife and I love her. I am also very sorry. Deeply, deeply sorry and regretful for all of the stuff I put both of my parents through from about age 15 to let's say 25. Please fogive me. And if it makes you feel any better or gives you a chuckle, just know that Emma Mae is paying me back in more ways than you will ever know. And as soon as she's old enough I can't wait to get her out on the paint ball field with me to show her how much I appreciate everything she does.