Why Mothers Worry

First, happy Mother's Day, particularly to all those blogging internet moms out there in cyberspace. With our son's wedding less than a week away, Mother's Day became just a quick blip on our radar calendar. Our sons joined us and my in-laws at Sidetrack Restaurant in Ypsilanti for a mom's day lunch.

Yesterday, my youngest son Scott threw a bachelor's party for Greg with about a dozen guests, friends and family. I helped to organize, decorate, clean and run things. We started with a backyard barbecue at our home before continuing on to play whirlyball in Ann Arbor.

Wendy visited her sister while Scott and I ran the barbecue. She arrived home later after we males had caravaned to our next destination. After moving the plastic cones that marked our driveway basketball court so she could park the car, she picked up a couple stray beer cans near the bird feeder and a few more scattered around in the back yard. Then she entered our home, surprised to find the lights and TV on, and the back patio door open.

Not just unlocked or ajar. Fully open. That creature that tried to break in through our second floor bedroom window a week ago could have simply walked inside and helped himself to any number of junk food munchies sitting on the counter.

Meanwhile, the party-goers were engaged in a highly spirited and competitive game of whirlyball where teams in bumper cars try to outmaneuver eachother--more like smash into eachother--while playing a game that resembled lacrosse. I did not do that well. Chasing the ball once, I ran full speed into a wall. That hurt. Another time, Greg blindly tried to hurl the hard plastic ball full strength the length of the court. Instead, it went about four feet, right smack into my chin.

My brother 'the enforcer' and I were designated drivers after the party moved on to a local Buffalo Wild Wings for the proverbial couple beers. I thought my brother and my two nephews were just going to stay for a drink then start the 100-mile trip back north to their hometown of Bay City. But despite my brother's occasional reminders that they had to go, my nephews graciously convinced him to stay till the party broke up at midnight.

Then the remaining celebrants engaged in a number of playful wrestling matches, inside the bar, on a patch of grass in downtown Ann Arbor, and at the parking structure where they rushed me in an elevator and ended up hoisting me into the air. No mean feat either since I am Big Dave. All this while my brother the enforcer was way ahead walking to the car or waiting within. Some enforcer he turned out to be.

So this morning I'm looking at a deep purple bruise the size of a softball on my abdomen. Not quite sure how I got it. At least I'm ambulatory. My son Greg is limping after rolling his ankle playing basketball yesterday. He says they may have to postpone the wedding if he can't walk down the aisle properly.

By the way, Wendy got a couple nice cards and gifts for Mother's Day today. Don't you get the feeling she's earned it?