Hugs, poetry and poop

Some mothers get breakfast in bed, fancy bouquets, or maybe even taken out for breakfast on Mother’s Day. I am luckier than that. My Mother’s Day celebration was a bumpy drive to Appleton in John’s old Jeep truck to pick up a load of lovely composted manure from Cheryl at Terra Optima Farm for my garden.
To top it all off, just at the end of the day, Jack and Sam came in with a small bouquet of cheery daffodils, and better than even the flowers, big hugs for me.

The boys wrote me this poem a few years ago on Mother’s Day.

Lizards have them
Little frogs have them, too
But no one in this world
Has a mother who’s
As sweet and fine as you!

Poetry, poop, and hugs. These boys know the way to their mother’s heart.