Written by Hannah Scupham
“Don’t walk through the pile! I just swept there!”
I stared down at the spot where my blue Converse were. Yep, a pile of dust bunnies. I shoot my mom an apologetic look. It’s the middle of the week – Mother’s Day has come and gone, and I’m being moved out of my college dorm. It’s just my mom and me (my dad and my brother were both still at work) and the room looks almost clean.
Except for the dust and dirt I just tracked back to the sink. She’s still sweeping. The dust bunnies have been happily undisturbed for half a semester (or maybe longer, but I won’t admit it) under my bed, and I think they’ve bred to some dangerously unhealthy size. They might be able to eat a small cat. Yet my mom wrangled them, lassoing them with the Swiffer, and dumping them into the garbage. They refused to obey my will, but they followed her. You see, Mother’s Day really isn’t just some arbitrary Hallmark card holiday in May, it’s really every day. (So is Father’s Day – we love you too!) Because without our moms, who will make sure we get our homework done on time? Who will make sure we get to soccer, basketball, track, swimming, baseball, boy and girl scouts, speech team, etc? Who will give us soup and medicine when we’re sick? Who will do our laundry (or at least remind us not to put colors with whites)? Most importantly, who will wrangle our dust bunnies? We love you Moms. Thanks for everything. Happy belated Mother’s Day!
PS. Sorry for walking through the swept pile. When I’m rich, I’ll buy you a Roomba.