Mama Sangria is our biggest fan. She broadcasts our blog to every friend, cashier, and server in the tri-state area. She overlooks our trucker mouth tendencies. She reminds us to pull up our Depends, and go kick some ass.
Her generation scrubbed shit from cloth diapers, which explains the obsession with clean undies. They skewered themselves with safety pins, and tracked toddlers by the swish-swish-swish of plastic bloomers. Mom stuffed our cars with toilet paper care packages until we were in our 30’s. It was comforting to know someone was safeguarding my backside.
Shiela always offered sage advice. “Valerie, don’t put so much on your fork” or “Lori, tube tops aren’t becoming on an ironing board.” She fed, coached, and chauffeured our friends, and had a sixth sense who’d lead us to temptation. She loved us through the surly teen years, even when we didn’t like her back.
As adults, we get frustrated troubleshooting her tech, and tune out when the price per lb. of a standing rib roast becomes the hot topic (again). The month-long move into her new home has blessed us with an abundance of time together. Regardless of the challenges, time has been the greatest reward.
Like a lighthouse, Mother’s symbolize security. They help navigate rocky patches and stormy seas. As children, we have no idea how much we’re loved. As adults, you discover it’s to the moon and back. No phallic rockets required. Now that we have our own kids, one thing’s for sure. We have big granny panties to fill!
Sangria Wine Rack
|Chauffeur / Taxi Driver
|Don’t make me turn this car around
|Eat it. There are starving kids in Africa
|Do you want your mouth washed out with soap?
|Cheerleader / Coach
|Because I said so, that’s why
|Is that what you’re wearing?
|Search and Rescue
|I’m going to give you until the count of three...
|Don’t get smart with me
|I’ll give you something to cry about
|If you break your leg, don’t come running to me
|Judge / Jury
|I’m not asking you, I’m telling you
JOIN THE SISTERHOOD, Subscribe today! 🍷