Mother.

I'm home maid-of-honoring for the weekend and my mother really, really wanted to spend quality time with me today.

Which, you know, was great just because, yay, quality time is so my love language and I love my mom.

But also.

My mother's version of quality time is:

"Sweetie, PLEASE can we go to REI

so I can buy you lots of things for your camping trip?"

I'm not kidding.

My HNGR self really wants to feel guilty about that,

but my everything-else self kinda thinks I won the parent lottery.

I am fully outfitted in Patagonia everything.

 

(My new Chacos are so.so.so cute. Like I-want-to-be-buried-in-these-shoes-cute. And everyone knows Chacos are the official HNGR footwear, so clearly my HNGR self can calm down.)