The birthday and the behaviour

It's my mother's birthday today. Due to cuircumstances, she is currently staying at my house (short-term). She normally lives, with my father, at their house, which just happens to be about ten blocks down the road which is perfect. But she's helping me out so has kindly come to stay, hopefully just for this week.

Don't get me wrong... I adore my mother, am eternally grateful for all the things she and my father still do for me and even more grateful to them for how they brought us up. We were lucky to grow up in a love-filled environment being taught to have limitless imaginations, huge dreams and fierce independence. Helplessness is not a Shiny family trait. And we had fairies in the garden. And a treehouse. And a foofy slide - you get the picture.

However, in one's thirties, I think parents are best served after breakfast. Contrary to her misguided thoughts, I can actually work out whether or not to take a jersey to work. Her excuse, of course, is that she's my mother and always will be. True, but why do I find it SO hard not to revert back to my stroppy 15-year old self when she does these things?

As we know though, the moon is still full, I still have my period (overshare, again... I'm just being honest and open) so I am suffering under a pall of not-enough-sleep which, as we know too, results in Grumpy-Shiny-with-No-Sense-of-Humour. It's not pretty, and is no fun for anyone. Especially before breakfast.

I did try to be better this morning. It's her birthday for heaven's sake. And she's my very beloved mother. I'm not sure how well I did though. So I've organised a big bunch of lillies from us all for a birthday delivery. And we're going for dinner at a fabulously decadent place (can't claim that as mine though, it was my dad).

Do lillies cancel out unnecessary silly-teen-behaviour, I wonder?