I love my mom. I know what you are thinking -- 19 year olds should not express their love for their mothers out loud, but I don’t care. I am not afraid to let the world know that I, Angelo Bavaro, love my mom.      

My mom has always been there for me, and she always will. She cares. My dad is incredible, and I truly appreciate how much he does to make sure the family has a roof to live under and food to eat, but he is always working. I know he cares just as much, and I know he’ll be there for me, but I don’t think it is to the same extent as my mother. It was my mother who sat in the stands at each of my soccer games and smiled and cheered me on every time I came in control of the ball. It was my mother whom I hugged after I had scored my first goal. It was my mother who picked me up from school every day, or took me to the doctor when I was feeling even the slightest under the weather. It was always my mother.                

What I adore the most is how much she cares. I am annoying and clumsy, and sometimes my emotions get the best of me, but no matter what kind of stupidity I get myself into, my mother is always going to be there to help pull me out.               

I remember the day I decided to stick a tic tac up my nose when I was six. I remember sitting in my bedroom with my eyes glued to the green mint sitting in the center of my palm. I started to wonder what would happen if I stuck the mint up my nose. Curiosity always gets the best of me, so you can imagine what happened next. And if you know how much bad luck I tend to have, you can probably predict what happened after I shoved the tic tac up my nose. I ran into the kitchen, where my mother was cooking, screaming at the top of my lungs.              

"Mom, Mom! I stuck a tic tac up my nose! I know I am stupid, I'm sorry. Please get it out, please!" And I started to cry. My mother dropped the knife she was using to cut the carrots with and spun around  to face me. “Oh, Angelo! Why do you do this to me! Angelo! Angelo!” My mother always tried to mask her nervousness with screaming.

She nudged me in the direction of the table. At that point, I was in full sob mode. My mother always makes me feel even more worried, but I still know she’s going to be able to fix whatever mess I have gotten myself into.  

She grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Okay,” she said as she charged my way, “blow.” She pushed the paper towel up to my nose and I blew as hard as I could. It didn’t come out. I blew and I blew and I blew as hard as I could, until the tic tac flew out of my nose covered in a layer of lime green mucus.               

“Why do you do this, Angelo?! You could kill yourself. Remember I told you about when I swallowed a toy and it got stuck in my throat and I had to go to the hospital? You want to end up like that?”               

“I’m sorry, Mommy.. thank you.” I was relieved. I wrapped my arms around her neck and pecked her on the cheek. She smiled.                        

See, that’s the thing. My mother is always there for me. I don’t think she knows how much I truly appreciate everything she does for me, but I do hope she knows that I will always, always be there for her. One day, I hope to sit down and have one of those emotional heart-to-hearts you see in the movies. Yeah, I guess you could say it -- I’m a mommy’s boy and I am darn proud of it.