The love my boys have for their cars can only be compared to a dog’s love of a bone, a woman’s love of shoes, or my love of office supplies. It’s may-jah.
Pure, unconditional, slightly obsessive, love.
For more love-ness, go here.
Last summer we had our annual vacation in San Diego (with my whole family), and as always my mom planned a “theme” party. One year it was Paris, another was a July 4th Patriotic theme, and last summer it was “Tiki”. We all donned hideous tropical outfits and leis, and carried on with various cheesy crafts (“It’s not a party without a craft!”–Mom). We made name tags and had a contest which was kooky (and I won, suckas), but even more fun was drawing tattoos on everyone. We had blue and pink tattoo pens and took turns drawing various designs and words on each other.
When it was my 5yr old’s turn, I asked him what tattoo he wanted me to draw. He thought for a moment, looked at his uncle’s skull and crossbones, looked at his aunt’s flower, and said, “I want you. Draw “Mom” for me and make it pretty like you.”
And then I died.
And when I picked myself back up I drew the sweetest tattoo ever.
For more Love, go here.
