I was in Houston for Mothers’ Day this weekend. My brothers and I spent Saturday improving my mother’s patio and paving around the pond we built her a few years ago. We were going to take her to breakfast Sunday morning. But before breakfast, there was still a little work left to do on the patio roof, so I buttoned that up while my brothers pruned a tree.

When I finished, as I headed to the shower, I thought about how fortunate it was that I had not yet found myself under siege in the bathroom. See, my youngest brother has a formidable Airsoft arsenal. And whenever the three of us are in the same house together, it is inevitable that one of us will find themselves standing on the sink in the bathroom threatening all kinds of violence on the other two in the hallway who have made their presence known with the ominous rattle of chambered pellets and a few warning shots under the door. At times like these, it’s best to take your medicine and get it over with as quickly as possible. The long hallway is the killing field and if you can make it out the other side, you’re in pretty good shape.

So, of course, after my shower this morning, the peace of the weekend was finally broken with pellets rattling and devious laughter in the hall. I finished dressing, took a deep breath, readied myself and then charged out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

I came out the other end, bruised, a little bloodied and tailed by two psychopaths. I made it into the living room, and looked to the kitchen for my Mom. And then I realized, here I am, 28 years old, married, and my first thought is to find my Mom to protect me. I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day!