True to my nature, and evident from the ‘happy belated birthday’ cards stacked up in my mum’s drawer, I forgot my mum’s birthday yet again.
That makes me a horrible daughter. No. Actually it does not. It only makes sense. I remind her ever year that it is my birthday so hey. She says she forgets because she is too old, I say I forget because I am too young. Weak argument, I know, but I have to defend myself!
So my dad did the husband thing and got her presents and since he is away on [his] family matters, he made sure that she was well taken care off. Sad to say I failed. The chicken I was meant to have figured out I should cook for her is getting harder in the freezer as we speak. Tomorrow is another day, yes?
So to redeem myself from mother dearest and you judging reader I gave my mother a full facial. (side but not really on the side note: my dad gets the random-est of things when he goes on his business trips. By far the most random is a mini facial steamer. I know. And none of us had mentioned it.)
My mum just dropped by my room and I tell you she is glowing! She is more than willing to buy whatever product she needs to so I can be giving her monthly facials (she used most of my stuff) and save the 1,000 bob she is charged at the salon if she were to go. Yes, I am THAT good people. My bff comes to me ONLY (read mostly) to get her eyebrows done.
There, I made her feel special and loved. Of which she is.
So in her Jubilee year (Kenya is celebrating 50 years as well, and TNA adopted that slogan too… preachers everywhere are saying that this is a Jubilee year…) one thing is true. I love my mother. She is the reason I am who I am.
Sure we fight over what I wear to my job interviews and I complain when she refuses to listen to me when I am right, and as my friend commented, ‘You two are like girlfriends.’
I have an awesome mother.