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You couldn’t stir ’em with a stick down at the Kendra Scott store this weekend. It was the same next door at Lululemon. I was in the vacinity running an errand on Friday, saw all the crowds and wondered to myself,

‘What the heck is going on?’

Then I remembered Mother’s Day is coming up…

Honestly – Mother’s Day isn’t one of the Majors around here. You could actually miss it if you blink. We tend to ‘do it up big‘ for Christmas, Easter and the children’s birthdays, but we take a more toned down approach to Mother’s Day. It’s probably the same way at your house too.  It’s not that our kids don’t love and appreciate us; it’s just that the little ingrates don’t go ‘all out‘ by setting up a tree, decorating the house, baking cookies or singing special songs dedicated entirely to celebrating us and our special day.

No matter – I can usually depend on Jimmy to acknowledge me with something fairly generous every year. (I take that as a sign that, deep down inside, he really does appreciate all my efforts at mothering our spawn.) As tempting as Kendra and Lulu looked that afternoon, I didn’t dare enter either store. Mainly because Jimmy and I had already squared-off for Mother’s Day 2016. We settled up earlier in the week when the subject of my Visa bill arose.

My Visa bill got a little out of hand back in March when I took a short trip to New York City with my daughter, Gracie.  In my defense, most people will agree that New York City is a pricey place. I’ve managed to put off going there for years.   I’ve just never had a strong desire to visit New York until one of our other daughters, Mollie, moved up there to attend law school almost two years ago.

What with the exorbitant airline fare, the swanky Manhattan hotel stay, all the great shopping, mixed in with cool restaurants (three times a day to keep our energy up) it costs a small bundle to go there. So, when it was time to pay the nice folks down at Citibank Visa, I thought to myself, “God only knows where I’m going to get the money to pay this…”   And that’s when it hit me.

While my personal bank account was quite depleted, my Tithe Checking Account runneth over. Yes, you heard me correctly, no need to re-read that last sentence. I’m saying it straight out, “God is flush!” I borrowed the money from The Big Guy.  Got right on my knees and promised I would pay Him back as soon as I was back on my feet again!”

I thought it was a “capital idea” and it totally was, all up until The Other Big Guy got involved. I’m not gonna lie, Jimmy hasn’t always been a fan of my fiscal creativity through the years. I don’t know what his problem is.  Maybe he isn’t as confident in his personal relationship with God as I am. Or maybe he doesn’t want to be a credit risk and a health risk at the same time.   But, whatever his reasoning was, he offered to pay off my debt to The Lord for Mother’s Day.

I balked a tiny bit because I was feeling pretty content with the clever arrangement I’d already hammered out with the Man Upstairs. So, naturally, I had thought of several other glamorous things I’d really prefer to receive from my husband for Mother’s Day.   But if you could’ve just seen the look on Jimmy’s face.  It was as if, after 33 years of marriage, his entire opinion of me might hinge on this one thing.  He’s judgy that way.  I really had no choice but to accept his gracious offer.

It’s not like I’m pouting, but, while all the other mothers in America were out milling about in stores like Kendra Scott and Lululemon, wantonly indulging their desire for useless baubles and high-pressure workout attire, I was sitting around appreciating my BRAND NEW SOUL.   I mean, apparently I’m going to need it…

…if only the good die young.