OK, so I’m going to my mom’s today for an early Mother’s Day celebration. This means she gets to listen to her new CDs early and all day tomorrow before her dozens of foster children bombard her with large bottles of Jean Nate body splash and silk flowers and insist on switching the music to something with words everyone can sing along to. (Mom, I sure hope you’re not reading this before I get there! I wanted the CDs to be a surprise … even though you told me that’s what you wanted! LOL!) This means tomorrow I can shop at Bloomingdale’s when all the other, more traditional moms and their families are out doing Mother’s Day stuff in pantsuits.
So I’m taking the train down. Yes, the train. The train and I don’t mix very well. I fear Amtrak may be jam-packed. And New Jersey Transit, which I lovingly call “the train for the ugly and cheap”, well, do not even get me started on its slippery brown vinyl seats that are so shallow that even the shortest of unattractive tightwads can barely sit without fear of immediately sliding down onto the sputum-splattered floor.
All I can say is that my mom better have some really good food waiting for me when I get there.
Stay tuned!