Aunt's Day

My parents were good sports. They took me to dance lessons for years and years, knowing long before I did that grace was not something I would ever be able to claim; they called me princess, knowing long before I did that I was not the center of the universe; they forked out big bucks for my very first musical instrument, knowing long before I did that the trombone would be an even bigger pain in my butt than it looked. They played along, and they were good sports all the while.

One year, I decided that mothers and fathers were not the only people special enough to have an entire day dedicated to them. I announced, or maybe I demanded, that aunts should have a special day, too. They played along. We picked a day, I don't remember what day it was, and we planned a big party. We invited all the aunts we knew - my aunts, their aunts, cousin's aunts... there were decorations and food and even a cake. The highlight of the afternoon? I dressed up in one of my mom's old flowing, flowery dresses and "sang" (because my parents let me think I could, knowing long before I did that my tortured-coyote voice would be the death of any such career) some made-up-as-I-went melody to all the aunts, about all the aunts, for much longer than any of the aunts should possibly have been forced to bare. It was a fabulous party.

So on this Mother's Day weekend, as we're wishing all the mother's a happy day, let's remember to share some love with the aunts as well, because they play along, too. They attend unending dance recitals, they buy those forbidden sparkly princess heels and barbie make-up, they agree with you about quitting the stupid trombone when your parents tell you to stick it out... They play along, too.

Happy Day to my beautiful mother, my charming sister, and Miss Kitty - three of the most fabulous aunts I know.
(This morning at my house - Candy, Oscar, Mom, Miss Kitty, my perfect nephew and Sprinkles. Yes, you do see brownie pancakes, strawberry breakfast ice cream and Smurf glasses).