It’s all my mom’s fault…

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(You tell me that a woman who allows that to go out to 300 people isn’t the coolest around.)

Sports, yes, sports happened this weekend. I even saw some of them. And will talk about them, promise. In and amongst a freelance project that’s kicking my ass, work that I’m actually expected to do, you know, at work, and the fact that I’m apparently NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN!, I thought I would be remiss to ignore the woman who puts up with (and is, let’s face it, partially responsible for) all my various psychosis. A day late, indeed but I know she understands.

My mom is better than a Curt Schilling split finger. Beat that!

Quite simply, the woman largely responsible for my insane family, the woman who keeps my brother and I from bludgeoning each other senseless while wearing our respective catcher’s jerseys, the woman who says “Sure, a family trip to Toronto to watch baseball sounds like fun,” the woman who leaves me breathless voicemail messages declaring her love for Adam Vinatieri…is the coolest mom on the planet.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

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