Sunday afternoon the family went shopping. My son had a gift in mind for me--a footstool--since I sit in my writing chair so much. We looked at footstools, but didn't fall in love with anything (always a prerequisite for my purchases). We had such fun, though, looking at the different designs, peeking inside the ottomons that double as storage units, trying them all out.
Later, we looked at shoes. I tried on a pair of brown "alligator" ankle boots, which fit great and felt great. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He said, "Okay." Yeah, he bought them for me. Just like a kid, I put my black clogs in the bag and wore the ankle boots the rest of the day and evening. (I know they're not springy or summery. Call me a rebel if you must.)
Bye-bye, footstool (and we totally missed ya, car wash gift certificates). Goofing around, laughing, understanding each other with just a look--those were my Mother's Day gifts. I just happened to get ankle boots, too.