I thought this morning, “Well, since I’m nearly hallucinating from this cold, it would probably be healthy to bicycle to work ten miles each way.”  Not my best call.  But who knows, maybe it was healthy.

So, I’m a little off right now.  Brain is foggy.  But I owe you a post.  That’s how committed I am.  Shower me with gratitude, like those dumb lists Oprah has you make each morning.

This past Friday I was at home to celebrate Mother’s Day.  My mom and I ended up in the family room, she on her iPad, me on the laptop.  We were both getting tired.  All of a sudden I looked over and saw this…

Not only was she sleeping, mouth agape, but also making tiny snores.  I stared at her for a good five minutes.  Every few minutes she’d choke on a breath, sort of wake up, and then right back to sleep seconds later.

I snapped the photo and immediately posted it to Facebook.

Now, this was late in the evening.  I turned off the lights and headed upstairs to go to bed.

The next morning I received a bunch of text messages and emails.  Apparently my mom captured this in the early dawn.  Also posted to Facebook.

Somebody must have alerted her to the Facebook photo, and she had exacted revenge.  I’m amazed that I have my arms behind my head like a moron, and my legs up in the air.  It looks like I’m ready to do power crunches and blast my upper abdominals.  Except I was actually dreaming of dancing in a meadow betwixt the lilacs.

Note – I’ve never dreamt of dancing in a meadow betwixt the lilacs.

Also, my mouth is wide open, just like hers.

I got nothing else tonight, guys.  I’m about ready to pass out.  If you’d like to say a rosary for my cold, this will earn you an indulgence, or so I understand.  Hop to it!

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.

While I was catching up on some stuff tonight, I realized I hadn’t packed.  This isn’t a big trip – just three hours by car.  I have to put some food and water out for the cat, put clothes in my little suitcase thing, and pack up the computer.  Also, I’m bringing the dog, so a few of her things.

Usually I do this the night before, as is the sensible thing to do.  That way I can get up and not have to race around before I leave for work.

Tonight I made a conscious desicion to not pack.  Sometimes it’s just more fun not to do what’s smart.

Remember in college when you waited until the day before the exam to study?  Or staying up all night on Dexedrine writing the term paper?  And then would you vow to never do that again?

Well, the good news is that most of us are out of college.  College was great, don’t get me wrong.  Never had I so much time to screw around.  But we don’t get to do a lot of those things anymore.  I mean, I guess we can put off our taxes until mid April, but that’s about it.

So, I was about to pack tonight.  And then, the rebellious twenty year old me said…

Not tonight!  You’re going to race around last minute in the morning and do all this.  It will be awesome.  Do it!

I think I have to engage my immature part every so often just to keep sane.  I remember my Mother gave me a card once that simply said on the inside, “Don’t EVER grow up.”  She didn’t mean to be a loser man-child not capable of being responsible and living in the real world.  I was a silly child.  She meant don’t give up the silly.

While silly isn’t always a great idea, practically speaking, it’s usually fun.

For example – this blog.  Could this blog hurt my ability in the corporate world?  Sure it could.  This website is silly and honest and extremely non-corporate.  Not sure some employers would want a guy who writes about stuff like this on their roster.  I’ve accepted the reality of that.

The downside is that should I ever look for a new job, this may be an issue.  The upside is that I have a level of  fulfillment that is very important to my well-being.  It’s interesting that being more myself (note – honest, silly, emotional, reflexive) results in this fulfillment.

So, tomorrow I’ll race around last minute to get packed, probably cursing this decision.  Oh, and speaking of, I need to get a card before Sunday, when all that’s left are the Hallmark ones written in Spanish.  Día de las Madres!