Bucket of Chicken

Well Mother's Day was yesterday...in case some of you were stuck in a cave. My family has had a running tradition, my Dad does not cook nor ever will. I think the closest I've ever seen him cook was slicing up a beef stick and cheese or cutting up turkey and adding mustard w/tons of pepper. So on Mother's Day he goes to the Colonel...Colonel Sanders the man who puts addictive chemicals in his chicken and you crave it at night. After he picks up the feast we head over to a local favorite park and enjoy the evening. Well my sister who are mothers have grown quite accustom to this tradition and have carried it over to their own Mother's Day celebration. So last night the Slaughter and I went to Iwo Jima and had a feast that would make the Colonel proud. You know it is a good time when you've got a drumstick in one hand and a view of Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials. Yeah for Mother's Day if it weren't for them I would never get my Colonel fix.

PS...big shout out to my Mom, she is the wind beneath my wings and one who gave me the Dorothy Hamill haircut back when it was cool. And let's not forget the love for Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand. Also she was the one who would sing "Love One Another" when we would fight and keeping singing it tell we stopped...talk about a buzz kill sometimes. She also was the one who would tell me I was pretty even when I had a really bad night and "THE BOY" wouldn't dance with me at the dance. She was even cool enough to let me back our van with 18 kids and cruise around during mutual and get cherry-limeade's...wait I don't if she knew about that, oh well she was/is cool. The best one was the introduction to the Rocky Horror Picture Show and taught me the time-warp dance. (Best mental picture of her and my dad)