Dear Flopsy and Cottontail,
I don’t know if you bunny-types are aware of human holidays – but last Sunday was Mother’s Day. Instead of going to brunch or spending the day at a spa, we spent the day planting flowers at our son Ben’s memorial. And by planting, I mean I picked out what I wanted, then sat in a lawn chair while Jeff and Ryan assembled them nicely. But that is beside the point.
The point is – just over a week ago, we planted some beautiful flowers. And when we returned seven days later I noticed that some of them were partly missing, which means one thing – you were eating them. While I respect the fact that you have to hunt your own food and don’t have a Whole Foods nearby (that really sucks), I am asking you to please stay away from the garden around my son’s memorial.
I realize when you look at me you probably don’t immediately think of Katniss Everdeen. The Lululemon get up and my muffin top don’t exactly shout District 12. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that because I grew up in Medina and now reside in Laurelhurst that I am a wuss. For when it comes to our children, inside all of us moms there is a closeted Glenn Close, ready and willing to come out if provoked. And you, while fluffy and cute…are provoking me. I am more than ready to grab one of those beautiful long knives that I never use in the kitchen and take you out. Ka-pish? Good.
Well, give our best to the Velveteen…he always was my favorite. Perhaps because he was stuffed.