Memories of a Simpler Time

I didn't want to get out of bed this morning.  Hard as I tried, that pillow just kept calling me back to rest a bit more.  Rob wanted to make the bed, so he made it around me, which reminded me of a time long past.

When I was a very little girl, my mama would change my bed when necessary.  I don't remember if it was every time, but many times after she got the bottom sheet on, I would scramble up onto the bed, sniffing the sun-dried sheet.  Mom would continue making the bed: topsheet, "my goodness!  look at that lump!"  and she would pat down the lump and put on the blanket.  Again she would proclaim in dismay about the lump, which by this time was beginning to giggle.  Then came the coverlet and mama would smmoth and tighten and claim sadly, "I must be slipping!  I can't get the lumps out!"  Hysterical by then, I would pop out and scream, "Mama, it's me!"  Laughing, we would fall back on the bed and she would tuck me in and kiss me good night.

Rob says it sounds like she spoiled me and probably she did.  I was the last of her daughters, born 8 years after she thought she was finished.  I was also her last link to the man she fell in love with.  She never remarried after the divorce, even though she dated a few times.  I don't know how you feel about your mom, but mine was the world's best.