Let me just get the painful part out there: my naturally spawned progeny did not wish me a happy mother’s day. Neither of them. This oversight was ameloriated somewhat by the fact that two of my stepkids did — one of them even made me a cake (FAVORITE CHILD ALERT: LIZ). My son’s girlfriend brought me flowers. My mom sent me a giftcard congratulating me on surviving my children. My husband Eric feted me from dawn ’til dusk.

But the fruit of my own loom did nada.

So we sat down to a beautiful dinner prepared by my husband, shrimp and grits. Why? Because I asked for it. No, I’ve never made it and neither has he. It just sounded decadent and different and I really shouldn’t have to defend my choices to everyone anyway, OK? Wait. I think that’s a holdover from the same conversation I had with my birth children.ย  My bad.

Anyhoo, we commenced dining. Susanne — oh she of “I can’t eat this, it’s awkward” fame, when presented with $35 crabcakes she had ordered at my mom’s 60th birthday party — said, “UH UH,” with a look of total disgust, when offered shrimp and grits.

“One no thank you bite,” I said, and slopped a milligram on her plate.

(Eye roll — mine)

A few minutes later, Susanne had surreptitiously consumed the grits. A fork other than mine slipped onto my plate and snagged a shrimp and an especially delectable (cheesy, buttery, and did I mention cheesey and buttery?) bite of grits.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked her.

“I love you Mommy.” That’s her trademark “get out of jail” move. It didn’t work.

Now, this next bit requires backstory. Hang tight, people. When Eric was making dinner, Susanne came into the kitchen. That’s when she first started bitching about the menu. She picked up the package of grits, which was actually pre-cooked polenta. While this doesn’t sound like authentic shrimp and grits to you purists out there, it was exactly what the recipe called for, so there.

Back to the celebration of my life as a mother:

“Get your dirtyย fork off my plate. You didn’t even want any. If you want more, get it out of the dish, with the serving spoon.” I probably threw in a sweetie pie and said this in dulcet tones of love. Possibly.

“I didn’t know how much I liked to eat placenta,” Susanne said.

Everyone at the table groaned.

“What? Placenta is good,” she said.

Sixteen-year old Clark made retching noises.

“How did she survive to make it into high school?” Eric asked.

I just shook my head.

Liz piped in. “I wonder how this is going to go over with Tim Tebow?”

“WHAT? I don’t get it,” Susanne wailed.

Eventually Clark clued her in: “You just said you like to eat shrimp and afterbirth. Which explains a lot.”

This was after she’d eaten the rest of the shrimp and grits, licked the serving spoon, and poured herself the rest of the Fre (alcohol-free) champagne without asking whether her beloved mother would like a bit more.

I totally know what we’re serving now at the reception to her wedding to Tim Tebow.



Published by Pamela

edit biographydelete Biography Pamela writes overly long e-mails and the What Doesn't Kill You romantic mysteries from deep in the heart of Nowheresville, TX and way up in the frozen north of Snowheresville, WY. Pamela is passionate about hiking with her hunky husband and pack of rescue dogs (and an occasional goat and donkey), riding her gigantic horses, experimenting with her Keurig, and traveling in the Bookmobile.

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  1. I love shrimp and grits!! Not sure about using polenta though? Although I like polenta too…as opposed to placenta…LOL. Next time try cheesy grits and shrimp. Just cause ya know everything is better with cheese!

  2. Fortunately at the Tebow’s house (Tim and Susanne) she will not ever see the packaging, because the food will be prepared by cooks.

  3. Oh my gosh, you guys are so funny!!!!! Reminds me of stupid stuff we ALL say … once I misspoke and said “Alfred Einstein” instead of Albert Einstein. Forevermore in our home will the genius Einstein be known as Alfred. (In much the same way Charlton Heston is known as Charleton Heston … I have a hard time keeping first names of famous people straight, apparently.)

  4. Children are such loving creatures at times. The placenta comment is something Conner would say but the “I can’t eat this face” is totally Elizabeth.

    This dinner sounds yummy! I must have the recipe.

  5. Gotta love the “placenta” kids too. They keep the family in balance. LOL. Oh lordy, this was so funny. And? Now I’m hungry for shrimp and grits. Buttery, cheesy grits. Oh yesssss.

  6. I love grits and I love shrimp but I’ve never tried them together. I’ll have to try that. Although now I’m craving grits but I’ll pass on the placenta. *shivers* (lol)

  7. Had cheesy grits and shrimp while in St. Louis and it was good. I think I could make it better – being tres more southern than anyone in St. Louis, right? I did not hear from my son. My daughter gave me an amy-and-baby-free weekend. It was fun. Did I have breakfast in bed. Yes. I made breakfast and took it to my bed to eat it while enjoying a Charles Todd novel.

    1. LOL, I love that y ou did that (made it for yourself and took it to bed). Who needs kids, right?

      Frank’s Chop House, Westheimer and Weslayan — amazing shrimp and grits.

  8. Son dropped by on his way to Vegas and dropped off a cutsie cow mug. I’d rather have gone to Vegas (smile). I’ll give him credit – at least he remembered who spent hours in agony after walking 10 miles through the snow to the hospital, barefoot, (in southern Louisiana), in order to bring him into this world.

  9. If you could see my inbox, you would understand why I am so late to commenting on this. HOWEVER, I just laughed out loud. That was after I said, “Ooh, shrimp and grits sounds kind of good, doesn’t it?” To which I received two separate Ughs in reply. Hmph. We’ll just see about that.

    Placenta… *snort*

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