Do you ever have those moments where you well-up with emotion? No, not the swelling-up kind, that usually consists of snot and tears. If you're a girl, it's no secret that you meet that occurrence often enough. And if you're a guy, well, this is a rhetorical question, which means, don't answer.
I'm talking about the welling-up of the good emotions, like happiness, joy, butterflies and sunshine and maybe a unicorn or two. That kind.
Today, I got that feeling. Maybe not the unicorns, but that's only because it was a gratitude-centered welling, which don't usually involve fictitious animals. And no, it had nothing to do with dating. Thank goodness. That's always a welling-up of hot air, or helium, or just normal air, in a gaudy colored balloon right next to a humongous cactus.
No, this emotional swelling was fueled by my parents. I just got to thinking about it (not for the first time, but that's beside the point) and my parents are freaking awesome. Not just normal awesome. Freaking awesome. I mean, have you met my parents? You can't deny it. They are. Freaking awesome.
I could list all the reasons why, but really now, that's just ridiculous. It's like asking that owl how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. -- Actually, it's nothing like that. Because, one, he says it takes 3, and even if he didn't cheat in order to steal candy from a child, listing all the reasons my parents are spectacular would be more like trying to get to the center of the Tootsie-Pop, not asking how long it would take.
That analogy stinks.
But I digress.
In conclusion, my parents are no normal kind of awesome. They inspire greatness, but love me no matter how mediocre I am. They read, write, discuss, listen, play, teach and love learning. They are funny. Boy am I grateful for their humor.
I love my parents. And, just to add more evidence to my argument (although, really, who would dare argue with me?) their names rhyme. Eat that, children of other people.