Isn’t Every Day Mother’s Day?

…is something I would never say, write, or even think!  Cursed is the man who utters such a phrase!  Run out of town on a rail he should be!

Okay, obviously I was kidding – I’m sure you were ready to punch me through your computer screen right into my sack.

The truth is that moms work damned hard.  I know that my mother was busting her fanny just raising us even when she wasn’t working a day job.  And there were only two of us kids.

Moms are often the bad guys too, especially if they’re home all day.  They’re the primary disciplinarian, and the kids end up with resentment because you told them they couldn’t watch a Pixar movie before making up the bed.

Okay, I hope to have sufficiently persuaded you that I actually think mothers are awesome, hardworking, and rarely get deserved credit.  My mom cried during brunch today because I came home to visit this weekend.  That’s a good mom.

But what about those of you with shit mothers?

Certainly there’s got to be a few floating around, right?  Hopefully you don’t have one.

Well, those mothers should not get a free pass.  If you were a bunk mom your children should be able to call you up the second Sunday of every May and shame you.  For you, it will be known as “Shitty Shaming Day.”

And then the rest of us with great moms will get together and buy you some chocolate covered strawberries.  That way you get to unload on your bad mother AND have a delicious snack.  I think that’s fair.

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Hi Joan, how was Mother’s Day?

Great!  The kids flew in, took me to brunch, gave me a mani/pedi in the living room, and then presented me with the entire All My Children seasons on dvd autographed by Susan Lucci!  Oh, and Linda, how was Shitty Shaming Day?

Well, my daughter called from London.  You remember Sally – she moved overseas because, as she puts it, “I hate the USA knowing that you live there.”  She’s mad that I called her fat from age six until seventeen.  For Shitty Shaming Day she phoned up and just screamed the c-word over and over again.  My son mailed me his dog’s feces and a fork.  He didn’t explicitly say it, but I’m assuming he wants me to “eat shit.”  Still mad that I told him every time I cried it was because he was bad.

You really didn’t benefit from the addition of Shitty Shaming Day, did you?

I did not.

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So for all you lucky enough to have a great mother, I hope you made her feel special.  And I have a tip for you – call her up on a random Thursday next month and tell her what a great job she did raising you.  Trust me.