One day when I was little, after my brothers Jeff and Greg ruined my only baseball, my mother bought me a $5 one from the back of a Honeycomb cereal box. It was “autographed” by the ’90 Yankees.
When it finally arrived after many, many weeks, I bought a plastic case to preserve my new prized possession (The case cost more than the ball itself did). The still-pristine ball holds prime real estate on my shelf today. Wouldn’t give it up for anything.
Moms, never underestimate the impact a seemingly small gesture can have on your kids. Thanks for all you do.
Love you all (especially you, Mom)