Moms are always Moms

My Mom is in town visiting me this weekend. Yesterday we drove all over the valley, shopping, and checking out some sites. I drove her down to the old hood. So much has changed from when we lived there, neither of us can recognize the area. The old high school, which use to be a monolith in the landscape is now barely noticeable with all the barricading traffic and stores bordering it. We reminisced about an old friend, and what street the guy I once dated lived on. We, both in awe, noticed the still surviving SconeCutter. A place that would be my Friday night hook up spot in my youth. It was quite the center of teenage social networking. I suppose today they just text message each other.
After our trip down memory lane, we headed back home (my home). That morning, she had taken a quick stock of my refrigerator inventory. She was appalled at my food supply, or lack there of. What can I say....I'm a bachelor. My fridge is more for condiments than actual food. On the way back to the house, we stopped off at the store. She grabbed a shopping cart and took off, filling it with more food and supplies than what could feed an army. I suddenly felt 15 again, helping Mom with the Saturday shopping. The difference was that this time she was shopping for me. Weird! I just let her do what she wanted. I realized that she actually was loving it, taking care of me. Later that night, she whipped together a very healthy dinner; salad, broccoli, and chicken.

As I talked to Larry, I was telling him what she was doing, how she taking care of me. He laughed, "she is loving it, isn't she?" "I think so," I said. "Moms are always Moms." After dinner, I "accidentally" let out a mighty belch. "Bindy Kay!" she yelled. I immediately covered my mouth. "Sorry." I dare say daughters will always be daughters too.