Amy Comes Home

A long, long time ago, I used to think that some women got far too large a percentage of their fulfilment in life out of mothering. I mean, get a life.

Early this morning I was sitting on the couch with Bible and coffee in hand when the front door opened and in glided a very tired and pale little ghostly figure, laden with suitcase and backpack. I enfolded the fragile figure in a hug and promptly bade her lie down on the couch, clicking into Smother-Mother mode before you could say boo.

Then I was off bringing a glass of water (with a straw, of course, as a good mom should), ibuprofen for her headache, two slices of toasted homemade bread with lots of real butter.

It took me by surprise, the sheer joy of having Amy home and of being able to serve her like this. She lifted her tired little head and said something wonderful like:

Quote of the Day:
"It's nice to have a mom to take care of you."
--Amy