McMom

So Wednesday of next week is my sweetheart's mom's birthday. This post is titled McMom because their surname begins with "Mc" and when I called her Mrs. Mc-------, she asked me to call her by her first name. Being raised old school by my parents, THAT was never going to happen. (Or as my friend Kieran's mom said, "Did you tell her you still call me Mrs. W-------- after 20 years?") So we compromised with Mrs. Mac, or Mom Mac, etc. (And yes, I have called his dad "Mac Daddy" -- hee!)

In any case, I just got back a bowl from the kiln which I really like which will become her birthday present :-)

My engineer's reaction: "That's really pretty. She'll love it. Until she breaks it. There's a reason we have an extremely well-stocked first aid kit in the laundry room"

My mom's reaction: "You're giving her a bowl? Is it an ugly one? You should give her a nice one you know." (Um, yeah, mom -- I know.) When informed that (a) my engineer thought it was pretty, she was mollified, and (b) that his mom will probably break it at some point, "Well you know, us old people aren't as coordinated and have less hand strength."

My classmates' reaction in the pottery studio, regarding the probable fate of the bowl: "Well it's good that people break things. Then we can give them more stuff. Otherwise they'd never need any additional/new pieces."

My reaction: "Well hey, it's made to be used. As long as it has a happy and useful life before its eventual demise, then I'm satisfied."

Hey, it's all in how you look at the world....glass half empty / glass half full / opportunity to sell water / hey, I can make another mug! ...etc.