Go call your mother and say Thank You.
October 26th 2006 14:17
Go! Do it now! I'll wait. Go call your mother and tell her thank you. If you' mother is unfortunately no longer with us, then stop and say thanks to her in your mind and in your heart. I just called MY mother and told her thanks. She said I was being a brown noser and laughed. But, I meant it.
Why is this important to me at this very moment? Why do I want everyone to do it? Becuase I just spent twenty minutes fishing a fucking shirt pin out of our 75 gallon fish tank. Why was I fishing a shirt pin out of our 75 gallon fish tank? Because two weeks ago, we had a wedding to go to. My wonderful husband got a new shirt, and put the shirt pins on our fish tank. Those fucking shirt pins have sat there for TWO weeks. Finally, out of aggravation I picked them up, because he wasn't going to do it. As I was picking them up, one fell in the water.
I tried not to care. I tried not to think about one of the fish (who I had just fed, and were currently feeding from the bottom) eating the pin, and hurting itself, or heaven forbid the turtle finding it, while it dug into the rocks to hide. Knowing that Aislinn adore the fish and especially the turtle (she cried when I said that some girls might think him yucky) that having them one of them die of something so horrific sent me searching. For twenty minutes I peered in the fish tank. I found it once, and right when I got the pin to the surface it fell. Fucker. Finally, I got it out, arm soaked and cold.
Only a mother would do this. A mother would do this, and not even tell you she did it. Only a mother would go and find you special seamless socks at the mall that is farther away, and then pay $12 for four pair. Only a mother would spend an hour finding all four pair because you can't throw them down the chute. Only a mother would dry the sock that got lost in the wash with her hair dryer, even though there are perfectly good pairs of seamed socks in your drawer. Only your mother would then BLOW on the sock because she knows you hate hot socks.
Your mother worried and obsessed over you, as a child, and even now as an adult. Think of all your little ticks and weirdies that you had as a kid, and how she tried to accomodate them. Maybe you only liked eating yellow food, or you like that one pair of brown courdoroy brown overalls, that she washed after work every night so you can wear them. (That was me) Think of all the crustless sandwhiches and all the tears. The scrapes and cuts. Your sickies.
I have just had one of those mornings. As I stood there lamenting my morning of socks, the pin, the fight over breakfast, and smelling a pretty nasty diaper, I realized... holy shit. My mom did this too. So, I called her, and I thanked her. I don't think she took it seriously, but I meant it.
Being a mom is hard work!
Why is this important to me at this very moment? Why do I want everyone to do it? Becuase I just spent twenty minutes fishing a fucking shirt pin out of our 75 gallon fish tank. Why was I fishing a shirt pin out of our 75 gallon fish tank? Because two weeks ago, we had a wedding to go to. My wonderful husband got a new shirt, and put the shirt pins on our fish tank. Those fucking shirt pins have sat there for TWO weeks. Finally, out of aggravation I picked them up, because he wasn't going to do it. As I was picking them up, one fell in the water.
I tried not to care. I tried not to think about one of the fish (who I had just fed, and were currently feeding from the bottom) eating the pin, and hurting itself, or heaven forbid the turtle finding it, while it dug into the rocks to hide. Knowing that Aislinn adore the fish and especially the turtle (she cried when I said that some girls might think him yucky) that having them one of them die of something so horrific sent me searching. For twenty minutes I peered in the fish tank. I found it once, and right when I got the pin to the surface it fell. Fucker. Finally, I got it out, arm soaked and cold.
Only a mother would do this. A mother would do this, and not even tell you she did it. Only a mother would go and find you special seamless socks at the mall that is farther away, and then pay $12 for four pair. Only a mother would spend an hour finding all four pair because you can't throw them down the chute. Only a mother would dry the sock that got lost in the wash with her hair dryer, even though there are perfectly good pairs of seamed socks in your drawer. Only your mother would then BLOW on the sock because she knows you hate hot socks.
Your mother worried and obsessed over you, as a child, and even now as an adult. Think of all your little ticks and weirdies that you had as a kid, and how she tried to accomodate them. Maybe you only liked eating yellow food, or you like that one pair of brown courdoroy brown overalls, that she washed after work every night so you can wear them. (That was me) Think of all the crustless sandwhiches and all the tears. The scrapes and cuts. Your sickies.
I have just had one of those mornings. As I stood there lamenting my morning of socks, the pin, the fight over breakfast, and smelling a pretty nasty diaper, I realized... holy shit. My mom did this too. So, I called her, and I thanked her. I don't think she took it seriously, but I meant it.
Being a mom is hard work!
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