No Bouncy Gym for Mama (or any of the rest of these people)

 Last week my sixteen year old daughter asked me what I wanted for Mother’s Day, and in a moment of stinky mean inspiration I told her I wanted the whole family to spend time at an indoor bouncy gymnasium.  Heh.  I don’t even know if there is such a thing, especially one that allows for mamas and daddies and kids over 6 feet tall, but all that matters is that she believed me, turned a little pale, and couldn’t look me in the eye.  She was appalled.  

For a couple of days, I worried (out loud and in her presence) over the perfect bouncy gym outfit. I fretted (and caused her to fret) over what the guys in our family would wear.  I tried to pay one of the boys to play along, tell her they wouldn’t let an over-40 mama in the bouncy gym so they were renting me a bouncy castle, and ask her to come out and help find a nice, flat place to put it.  Her brother laughed and laughed, but he refused. I don’t know why. 

Finally I told her that I knew what to wear, and was going to be part swimsuit, part running shorts, part tight tee with three Labrador retrievers on it, industrial upper body undergarments.  I cried with laughter (I am a terrible actress).  I watched her squirm. I told her that I wanted to hold hands with her and make up a tumbling routine for when we came down the biggest bouncy slide.  I told her we could practice in the neighbors’ hilly yard. I told her her dad and brothers were probably going to wear compression shorts. I asked her (like 500 times) what she was going to wear.  

Then I told her our indoor bouncy gymnasium appointment was at 1:30 on Sunday.  "You made an appointment?" she whimpered.  

When she came down for breakfast this morning, I put on my bouncy gym outfit and some little, white socks, and I practiced my “moves” in the family room while she tried not to watch (or get choked) from the kitchen.  

Finally, I confessed the truth - I was just teasing, and we didn’t have an appointment at the indoor bouncy gymnasium.  She looked at me with disbelief and said, “Huh uh. We were going to have fun ...”  

 And I still feel stinky mean, just a different kind of stinky mean ...  

Happy Mother’s Day!