He asked me if I could just drop him off at practice last night. Because, you know, I’m the only mom that ever stays. I guess that is embarrassing.
I remember when they were littler, and I was not embarrassing. I was pretty and smart and wonderful. Like a princess. I was a princess mom. And they lit up when I walked into a room. They ran to me. They hugged me and clung to my legs so that I almost fell over. And my love for them was not embarrassing.
I zipped my coat all the way up on the way out the door so that no one would see that I looked sloppy when I picked him up from practice. I sighed a little as I glanced at Ella, dressed for bedtime in her light blue snowman jammies and leopard print raincoat. I hoped he wouldn’t notice.
When we arrived, a boy was handing out cupcakes that his mom had sent for his birthday. On the ride home, I told him that I could make cupcakes for his birthday, too, if he wanted. But he said no. I guess that would be embarrassing, too.
I liked being the princess mom better.