So as is my Mother's Day tradition, on Sunday morning, I try to rush out the door to make my annual jaunt to the closest grocery store, Wal-mart, Walgreens to fight with folks in the greeting cards section. Per family tradition, just as I twist the knob to stealthily exit the Chateau, my Daddy's head pops up from his reclining position and he asks “where you headed”. To which I reply the store. To which he says as is tradition “let me ride with you.” Well first he has to find his shoes and then he has to find his wallet, thus thwarting my plans to make it seem as if i did all this running around the day before.
As always, there was somebody bogarding the Mahogany greetings section, like their Mama is the only Black Mama with a procrastinating child. Except I am not a procrastinator, its a pre planned Mother's Day tradition. So after I aim the evil eye of annoyance into the back of their heads as I peruse the Spanish language greeting cards, the Mahogany greetings monopolist moves on. I swipe two cards at a whopping $5 a piece. I could have gotten one of those $.99 Shoebox greetings, but I pass and head off to find a gift.
I was going to be like all of the other degenerate children and husbands running through Kroger's grocery store on Sunday morning trying to find an appropriate Mother's day gift two aisles over from the produce department. But no, as I sat there about to snatch up a plant that would be dead in about two days, I paused. What is more valuable that plants and plastic figurines? What would have more meaning that some grocery store slippers or a grocery store lounge set? What carries more emotion that some gift cards you throw in with your $5 Mahogany greeting card to show you care? Well, nothing says loving like cold hard cash with a post it note saying “Grab yourself a couple of gallons of gas or a couple of bags of jasmine rice from Costco”
So I headed back to Ze Chateau into the land of William Sonoma and Pampered Chef and called myself cooking brunch in the kitchen of Ze Chateau, before my sister gradually ran me out of her kitchen. It was too stressful watching me wield that Pampered Chef spatula with such reckless abandon. My pancakes may not be round or symmetrical or anything superficial like that, but I made the attempt... and I threw in some raisins for dramatic culinary effect(actually my siste plunked down the bag of raisins and said "I put raisins in my pankakes"). Gotta go now they keep screaming my name I have to go and see if anyone ate my pancake shaped like the continent of Africa... Or is that South America.... depends on how you look at it.
Happy Mother's Day!