Mother's Day

When that day which is dedicated each year to our mothers comes around, it seems almost insincere and rings a little hollow to hold it just once a year.  I mean, there really ought to be one each month, if we are to properly acknowledge their familial contributions and sacrifices.  I know every 28 days I was thrilled that I made it through another month, mostly as a result of being spared by my mother.

My argument for this stems from my belief that mom is the Worrier in Chief.  They deserve a little more consistent recognition.  For example, when you're off putting on 20 extra pounds at college, snorkling in areas far flung from ambulances or a heli-pad, unexpectedly quit your job or are overseas visiting a country during a huge ethnic conflict, you're able to enjoy yourself because you've left your worry at home.  With her.  Like the dog.  Sure, it'll be "ok", but every once in awhile she worries about it.  Lets it out to run around.  And then tucks it into bed.  (And you had better bring a gift back.)

They take a lot in stride.  Such as the cliches associated with Mother's Day.

Like, where the origins of preparing breakfast in bed for mom ever came about cannot even be found on the internet, so let's just agree it's safe to say this is a complete misconception, and one likely to annoy the hell out of her.  Anyone in their right mind knows that this would increase the chances of getting crumbs in the bed- hello, toast??- the sheets dirty or spilling syrup on the duvet.  What the hell were you thinking?  No- from what I've seen, moms would be happy if everyone just cleared the hell out of the house for 5 or 6 hours so they can clean and have some peace and quiet.  And when you do return, don't even think about messing up for three days after.

While we're talking about cliches, let's talk about flowers.  If you've given mom fresh cut flowers, you're thinking, but not hard enough.  She's now got to change the water every other day and clean up the dead petals for the next five days and then throw the whole damn thing away.  And, if you've given a potted plant, you've just made even more work for her.  Another thing to take care of, except the more water you give it, the longer it lives.  Good thinking!  No; flowers and plants are also a misconception of what mom wants on her day.  Now, if you show up on Sunday and water the garden and cut the grass? Now you've given her something she can use.   Rake the cut grass and put the yard waste into separate bags- and while you're at it, take the trash to the curb, because after re-doing the garden the day before for all that company, there's all kinds of crap to get rid of.  And take your shoes off before you come in, you little piggy.

And before you even think it, chocolates are right OUT.  Now she has to deal with the guilt of eating them, while pretending to appreciate the gesture.  Way to go.  So, when she shares them, you had better take them.  Not to mention, only she knows where to get the really good chocolates, so just forget it.  

Be considerate of what your mom's been through!  Anything short of a Platinum Level pass to the mall is unacceptable.  Or Hollywood-grade spa services.  Or hard liquor.  

Tell her that her hair looks terrific, that her blouse really compliments her eyes and that compared to her, Joan Collins is a tramp.  

Please don't cart her around in the sedan and trot her out to the buffet with punch fountains and tomato roses.  In short, Mom just wants to know that YOU know how hard she's worked, and the longer she gets to sit in one place that day, the happier she'll be.