Happy Mothers Day.

A friend of mine once said that I was a single mom of four. 

If anyone has met my husband, Im sure you can understand why. 

I married a middle aged eight-year-old.  When he is let off his leash, he runs amok with other kids, swinging them around in circles, upside down til their shoes fly off, runs through mud and into the house without taking his shoes off, and he always plays the radio WAY too loud. 

My dear husband has absolutely no self control.  If you leave him in a room with a cookie, that cookie is not safe.  You can tell him that the cookie belongs to someone else, (his wife, the baby, his co-workers, the Queen of England) but by all that is Holy that cookie will be gone when you come back.  In fact, his co-workers know this, and are not suprised to come into the office and find thier sandwich half eaten, albeit wrapped back up in its original wrapper as if nothing had happened.  The clients that bring Christmas Trail Mix to the store learned long ago to bring Jason his OWN share, to prevent fistfights and stomach aches (Yes, he WILL eat it all on the first day just to make sure that he gets the largest share.)

He is truly my biggest kid.  And while he spoils the crap out of me, sometimes I just want to tell him hes grounded.  Really.  No TV or Internet. 

He buys stuff off e-bay and KSL that he shouldnt.  (hey honey, I just bought us a new Solar Powered Flashlight!!! Its sooooo cool, check it out!)  Or worse was the time I came home for the 5th time that week to a package from e-bay.  Junk.  5 times in a week. 

Thats right, I called it JUNK.

Yet I think I was as mad as I've ever been when I saw the road kill...

I came home from work one night around 9:30 at night.  It was supposed to be the one night of the week that he handles dinner and putting the kids to bed (no later than 8) on his own, but no.  What was he doing?
SKINNING A DEER IN THE FRONT YARD.
Not the homecoming I envisioned after a long day.
Not just any deer either.  Road kill.  In the front of our very small, very urban yard.
Apparently, if you put your name on the "Road Kill" list for the Fish and Game officers, you can get "free" deer.
Not only was he skinning, gutting, and otherwise befouling our yard with nasty juice, my son was helping him, and was up to his knees and elbows in blood.  When I went inside, my then 4 year old daughter was running around in her underwear because she couldn't find pajamas, and couldn't go out to Daddy for help because she was in her underwear and he was all... bloody.
And do you think she had eaten dinner?
So I dress her, give her a bowl of cereal, and then I step outside with a full head of steam ready to yell at Jason, but Im stunned silent by the sight that greets me...

All I see is Bambi hanging from the basket ball hoop.

This is the part where I calmly shut the door, and lock it.  And I didnt answer it when Jason knocked.

In the end, he makes me laugh, he spoils me rotten, and hes the one I always have fun with.  My best friend.
For all the Mothers out there who are married to a big kid like I am, I hope you are blessed with one that is as fun as mine.

 And I hope you have more patience than me.