Zack woke up, singing an impromptu ditty about 'muffins with Mom, muffins with Mom', in preparation for a special breakfast hosted by his class to honor, you guessed it, Moms.
He sang. He harassed his sister, on her case to get ready already.
He insisted that I stop by Peet's coffee for a Black Sheep Bakery Vegan muffin, so I wouldn't be left out.
And we sat on foot high chairs; Zack held a stack of books to read to me, I ate my special pastry. He pointed out students I had worked with, just the day before, because at 7, it is simply a treat, bringing a parent to school.
Later some women at Jazzercise, a little further down the path, were lamenting that their grown children forget to call. Don't really keep in touch anymore. Especially their sons.
I know it happens.
But today, I was a queen. Heralded. Admired.
I'm tucking this day in my pocket, and savoring it. To be so lucky.
(And coming up in June...Donuts with Dad. First grade is a hoot.)