You have been a patient woman to have raised me all these years. Thank you for letting me puke apple sauce all over your shoulder while you carried me up the stairs. Thank you for convincing my father that, even though I was into mohawks, aquamarine hair, studded belts and punk rock, I was still probably a good person and not out participating in all manner of clandestine, devious activities. Thank you for, upon finding out that I had thrown a plethora of pumpkins from the overpass, not telling father and further incensing his already stoked conservative wrath against me, for realizing that boys will be boys and no harm REALLY was done. Thank you for holding my hand while the doctor shoved a needle in my neck and then cut a marble sized cyst out of it. Thank you for always sending me home with leftovers, even though I have never ever even one single time returned a container. Thank you for making homemade ranch dressing whenever you know I am coming for dinner, because there is a SLIGHT possibility that I might be able to choke it down on some salad. Thank you for letting me have the front seat sometimes because my legs are super long and yours are super short. Thank you for loving me despite skinny jeans and a rat tail. Thank you for every delicious meal you have ever cooked and know that I have appreciated every one, even if I haven't said it. Thank you for raising my 3 amazing siblings, and taking care of my wonderful father. Thank you for supporting him through long years of countless hours divided between the foundry, church callings, scouting activities, hunting trips, and every other thing in which you weren't personally involved. Thank you for letting us get on motorcycles and drive through Yellowstone, Utah, California, Idaho, Wyoming, and all over Juab county, even though it scares you to death, because you know it makes us happy. Thank you for keeping a clean home, a relief and refuge from the world that is always a joy and a comfort to come home to.
Most of all, thank you for your unconditional love, even though I am, at times, not very good at reciprocating it verbally or through my actions. Know, however, that it is always there, and that I think the world of you. You are indeed the best mom an adopted boy could have hoped for, and I'm indeed lucky you are mine.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Happy mothers day.