In September, right after JMP and Jenn went home, I happened to click in to read Dooce’s blog. That rarely happens now that she feeds partial feeds. I don’t know what it was that caused me to click but I did. And what did I click into? Her post about Paul Ferney’s Commission Project.
I’m pretty sure if JMP hadn’t been here and just left, that I never would have shelled out the money and taken the chance on ordering a painting from Paul but I did it and thought it would make a great present for my mother who often complains that she never has a photo of JMP to hang on her wall or whatever.
And then I mostly forgot about it. I mean I didn’t. But I did.
So when I was ordering gifts from Haldecraft for all of the people, I did not have it in my head that I’d bought my mom’s Christmas gift already and I ordered her some orange yarn. Then, she saw the sock monkey yarn that I sent sassymonkey and said she wanted some — and since I happened to have ordered two skeins of sock monkey yarn, I figured I’d just give her both skeins.
Flash forward a couple of weeks and the portrait I’d ordered from Paul Ferney arrived and it hit me — I have too many presents for my mother. Oy. What to do.
I opened the package, thinking — maybe it won’t be very good and I will just keep it. Or maybe I’ll send it to Jenn and Teddy. Or … and it was good. Really good.
I set it on the grandma cubby in my bedroom and I just loved looking at it. I thought I’d just keep it… or maybe hold it til Mother’s Day and send it to my mother then.
I took a picture and posted it on Instagram/Facebook/Twitter. My mother commented — asking if that was her Christmas present. I ignored her.
Time passed and TW moved the furniture in the bedroom around and her medicines were moved to the cubby — which means every time she opened the cubby cabinet, she knocked JMP’s painting onto the floor. It made me INSANE.
I was either going to have to move it, hang it or… send it to my mother.
I moved it to my desk.
Two days later, I wrapped my mother’s Christmas gift. And Ken’s gift. And as I was getting ready to tape the box closed… I reached over and grabbed the painting and shoved it into a bag. It almost didn’t fit in the bag, and I started having second thoughts… maybe that meant I was supposed to keep it, for at least awhile longer?
But no. Really. I bought it for my mom. I wanted her to have it. And hell, I’ll get it back eventually, won’t I?
When she sent me a text saying she got her box… I told her to just open the bag.
She didn’t answer.
I buzzed her on WWF, she didn’t answer.
I sent her another text. She replied that they were at Haley’s performance…
When she finally got home, TW and I were pulling into the mall parking lot and the darn woman opened the gift that was not in the bag. Sheesh. Which she was happy enough about (no mom, Buster has not eaten my socks or my gloves) and I told her to just open the bloody bag already.
She did.
She said she cried.
Which is pretty much what I wanted because I kind of cried when I mailed her the box. lol.
Happy Christmas, mom.
