The great thing about my mom coming to visit:

She comes to see me almost as much as she comes to see Z.

She plays with Z so I can write (except when she needs help working the remote).

She cleans the spots, like behind the kitchen faucet, behind the toilet, between the washer and dryer, I don't clean and rather than suggesting I clean it myself, just points out tools—such as toothbrushes and Comet, that make such cleaning easier.

She pets the dog even though she doesn't like dogs.

She loves everything Egg and I cook—even if the pork chops were slightly undercooked. She asked Egg for his green chile stew recipe.

She loved the breadmaker and ate every loaf I made—even the very experimental underdone dill loaf.

She bought me a new bread knife to cut said bread.

She loves turkey vultures ("a committee of" is a common collective term we learned) almost as much as I do. She even wanted to put out some hamburger to see if that would bring more but then she decided that would be messing with the system a bit much.

She brought Play-doh and race tracks for the Z.

She knows how to get Play-doh out of a sisal rug (let dry. Use knife).

She's amazed at the number of ravens circling overhead.

She wipes Z's nose, puts Vaseline under that wiped-raw nose, puts Menthalatum on her chest, learns how to use the Albuteral nebulizer, and wakes up when Z coughs and goes to sleep in Z's bed when Z asks.

She brings tissues wherever she goes.

She loves lunch, the Grand Canyon, Walnut Canyon, Slide Rock, and Sedona in that excellent and proper order.

She and her great boyfriend are up for about anything, including hikes with tarantulas and stopping at 3 different grocery stop on a Saturday, plus the 3 additional grocery stop trips they took on their own, restocking our entire kitchen.

She brings her boyfriend and his great vegetables for his great garden.

She's willing to play Cranium.

She and Egg can talk politics and yell at the TV during the debate in great animated good fun (they're on the same side and yet still manage to disagree over the details—in good humor).

She can watch Z do her singing and dance moves for even longer than I can.

She dances and sings.

She likes to learn new songs like Frog Went A Courtin'.

She tells me what her favorite songs were and when.

She sings the songs she sang to me to Z. And then some new ones.

She promises she'll come back soon.