This was the Mother of all Mother's Days. That is for certain.
I kind of suspected that something was up because Brad was acting a little odd and, even giddy, at the idea of me spending Saturday night soaking in a tub while he got to wrestle all the kids in their baths and then into bed.
The next morning he was up bright and early and got the kids out of their beds. "Making me breakfast? Probably. I should at least be able to sleep in until 8am . . . "or so I thought.
At 7am the doors to our bedroom burst open and a parade of gifts came in with Brad leading the way, camera in hand. Each child was holding a bag from a different store. Coincidentally, my favourite stores. "Trust me, you'll want to wake up early today!" Brad beamed.
First came the home-made gifts: a pop up card from Jackson, a hand-painted flower pot with Hershey's kisses from Jayden, a drawing from Avery. Then there was a cuisinart from Williams Sonoma, a Pottery Barn bag housed a small potted plant, the Banana Republic bag had mens' socks in it (maybe to throw me off?), Holt Renfrew had some chap stick in it (at $15 it was the cheapest thing in the store), and then a large jewelry bag had four cards and some jewelry cleaner in it. I must admit, the bag was large so I was expecting a silver plate or crystal drinkware so something . . . but to find jewelry cleaner? I was stumped. I searched for the "IOU coupon" for something, but before I could find anything Brad told me to check under my pillow for the present of my dreams.
A neatly wrapped box with a heavy inner box held a delicate, ever-so-sparkly diamond ring. And, most certainly, it was the one of my dreams.
I was stunned. Speechless. I scanned the room for a security guard who would no doubt ask for the ring back, but there were none.
"It's on loan," said Brad. My heart sank at the thought of having to give it up. (Fortunately, for me anyway, there aren't any jewelers who loan rings out to anyone less than a celebrity so this was indeed mine to keep.)
The rest of the morning was spent admiring my home made gifts . . . in the light of brilliant sparkles coming from my finger . . . and eating french toast and bacon.
I think the only way it could have been more perfect is if Brad had lent me a hair brush before the big photo shoot. (Apparently the hair fairy did quite a number on me the night before--sorry no face shots of the day, I'm too vain!)
This year, Brad certainly won the "Best Husband of the Millenia" award.