Why is it that moms so rarely get pampered or pamper ourselves?
Recently, after a very long and stressful week, a friend of mine gave me a calming candle and some sound advice. "Go home, light the candle and take a bubble bath," she said.
Ahh, sounds like dream! Or more like something that would only happen in my dreams.
That night when I came home from work, I showed my husband, the Bear, my new candle and I told him about my friend's advice.
"Sounds great, you should go take a bath and call it a night. The kids are already in bed" spoke the Bear in a melodic voice.
He can be so soft and cuddly sometimes! I was so excited I even asked if he wanted to join me!
"That's ok, why don't you just go up and relax, I'll clean up the kitchen from dinner," said Bear.
At this point I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming.
Nope! So without a second offer I flew up the stairs and drew a nice warm bubble bath. I turned down the lights, lit my candle and turned on some Enya. Total bliss!
As I was just drifting off into tranquility, I had this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something just wasn't right.
I sat up and peered over towards my door and there stood the Tank, perched idly against the door jam.
"What are you doing?" asked the Tank.
"I'm taking a bath."
Baffled the Tank just stared at me then said, "but it's not Mother's Day."
"No, it's not," and I just put a hot cloth over my eyes and slipped away back into my sedation.