'Twas the night before the weekend
And all through the house
Were messes and socks and even a real mouse.
Nothing was hung ANYwhere with care.
But never fear, Cheri would send Martitza to dare
Step into my house, step into my clutter.
And prepare this crazed placed without even a mutter.
A party was happening.
A surprise would take place.
A surprise planned with love for a woman with grace.
The woman would turn half a century old
The woman, my mother, could not be told
ANYthing remotely that breathed the surprise.
So Cheri and and had a plan to devise.
We coaxed my poor Mother into thinking the worst
We told her to meet at the counselor's office first.
A Sunday meeting with "Yoda" to spill all my beans
But, wait, "dress cute," don't wear ratty jeans.
My mother, she fretted, what could it be?
Why does my daughter want to torture me?
My 50th birthday is quickly approaching.
My daughter is selfishly bitching and moaning.
"I'm SO busy Mom." "My life is a wreck."
You must meet me on Sunday to sort out the mess.
"I'll pick you up at noon, so we can drive together."
Meanwhile Cheri greets guests and cuts bagels.
We show up in the back, tear open the door,
Mom walks into my home to find friends she adores.
Her "Trish" friends, "her Patti" friends, and even some call her "Gran."
Which Cheri, the lovely co-host has planned.
"We did it!" We cried.
And of course she looked cute.
'Cause what can be better than hawt legs in hawt boots!
I hope she exclaimed as she cried out in fright,
"I'm a beautiful woman with a beautiful life!"
Happy Birthday Mom. You rock 50! I love you.
For the backstory on this incredible woman, see here.