The Sleepover

Used to be Mother wanted to have a sleep over. A bath is what she really wanted. She's adjusted to a shower but you get so much cleaner with a bath she informs me. Sleep isn't something UTBM does.She isn't a very good house guest. She heads for bed at 8:30 p.m. and awakes at 4:30 a.m.  She makes a lot of noise. So I scramble out of bed just slightly aware that this isn't too far off from the time I normally go to bed. It's dark outside. Autumn leaves are now falling. I say she isn't a good house guest. But I am wrong. She cleans. She can't help herself. She empties the dishwasher. She does the leftover dishes. She sweeps the floor. In my sleepy stupor I consider what life with UTBM under the same roof 24/7 would be like. Clean would definitely factor into it. By 6 a.m. she is hungry. But she doesn't know how to fix it anymore. So I make blueberry muffins with lemon zest for the first time in a decade. She doesn't remember what a muffin is. She's amazed that you can make such cute little cakes. After her "brekkie" she goes for the  anticipated bath. She's in there for 30minutes. I begin to wonder if she has drown or if she has fallen asleep. She comes out with a towel wrapped around her. Her body that carried four of us and worked as a clerk and shovelled wheat and baked bread and sewed clothes is a saggy mess. Seeing all that flesh and atrophied muscle, I am horrified at the prospect of my own sagginess. She smiles brilliantly at me. "Oh that bath was just great!" Such little simple pleasures. She doesn't know about the murder last night downtown nor the assassination in Afghanistan. She doesn't realise that her rent is going up. At 6:58 I look into the Eastern sky and this is my reward:

Used to Be Mother is all dressed now with makeup and hair curled. She awaits her ride later this morning that will take her to her grandson's wedding. She watches the weather channel. You can never have too much weather.

And I am on my way back to bed. Sleepless sleepovers haven't changed much since I was girl.

Mom and I watching Mansfield Park

But no, she has nothing to do but watch out the window for her ride so I invite her to my bed to watch a movie. She has never heard of such a thing: a movie at 10 a.m. and in bed? And on the microwave? It's a computer Mom. Oh. We nestle in and cuddle. And then I hear her snoring softly. She's fast asleep. Bathed, fed, loved. Just like a baby.