My Mother

I love my mother. This word mother associates with something tender, sweet, merciful and sweet. That is the description of my mother. The picture of my mother will never disappear from my mind. She has a curly brown hair and uses a ribbon so that her long hair does not hide her beautiful face. My mother is not that tall but am not saying that she is short, just slightly taller than me. My mother’s style for clothing is a bit different from other mother but I love her sense of style. She has several types of shoes and rarely wears heals but loves rubber shoes.

My mother is a fantastic cook. She is such a nice cook that whatever she prepares is absolutely delicious. Even my best friend who moved away last month said that she misses the smell of my mother’s gingerbread cookies. For me, my mother’s amazing cooking gift usher’s an early Christmas. When I smell cinnamon and honey, I immediately feel my mouth watering. Right after she had done cooking the cookies, they quite disappeared.

My mother is always the one who is there for me. Whenever I am in any sort of mess, I run and tell my mother. She calmly comforts and promises to ensure me that all will be well. She lavishes a lot of attention on me like am her princess. She always seems to be in a good mood and nearly we have the same hobbies and sometimes the same opinions. I credit her for bringing the best in me by being positive and cheerful. I trust her than anybody else because she is very honest and will always say what she thinks even if its bashing me. This is useful sometimes as it shapes me and my character as I grow up. For example, she can easily tell me when am lying even if I try to keep I straight face. I do not know how she does it but I am never bored with her.