According to an article on HuffPo, it seems there are as many Mother’s Day traditions as there are mothers in the world. In Japan they give there Mother’s red carnations and in Mexico they take their mom’s out to dinner. Ethiopians have a three day festival called Antrosht for their matriarchs and in France they make flower shaped cakes for mamans. (that is French for “Moms”, btw)
I thought I would give you some insight into what a typical Mother’s Day in my family looks like. It starts like any other day…rousting awake the vagabonds and hangers on that crashed on our floor from the night before. Which, of course, leads into the daily cleaning of the beer cans. But, on mothers day, mom gets a pass and gets to either sleep in OR pick which forehead she wants to use as a the back board for “EMPTY BEER CAN BASKETBALL!” If you look at any of my grade school pictures, the blueish, purpleish, orangeish splotch on my forehead should indicate my mom’s favorite backboard.
After the mess is cleaned up, and all the degenerates have been sent back their hovels, we move onto brunch. Now, I would like to make a joke here, but in all honesty my grandmothers cooking is nothing to laugh about. The women was put on this earth to spread love and light and joy and one of her most effective tools of love is her food. From simply frying an egg to conjuring up centuries old family recipes you can taste her heart in every bite. Nothing in this world will taste the way my grandmothers cooking tastes. Nothing in this world will make me feel safe and loved the way her cooking makes me feel safe and loved. Nothing will measure up to her measured best.
By then, it’s time to drink. If the clock doesn’t say noon we will change it so it does. And usually we let mom choose what the poison will be. Unless she hit it hard the night before and tries to wuss out by choosing something with a number in the name. Like, “H20 Light” or “Not Really Beer 47” Then we shame her. Because, it might be her day but, dammit, we are Walkers. Show some pride!
Once we have a good buzz going, we start thinking about dinner! Someone will light up the grill and if it’s an even numbered year we will run to the hospital shortly thereafter. But, that is ok, because the wait in line for medical attention will prove too long for us impatient Walkers and they will return at about the same time the grill will be ready for meat. The
girls salad team will head inside to whip up some of the Midwest’s finest “salads” (lots of mayo) and the boys grill team will gather around the life giver and critique whoever is holding the tongs. I usually find a book to read as I don’t really fit in either camp. But, don’t cry for me, Argentina! They usually take pity on me and I get first dibs (after mom and gram) on the food. So, who is REALLY the cad clown here?
All jokes aside…Mothers Day is Sunday. Some moms chose to be mom, some did not. Some moms seem perfect at their job, some do not. Some mom’s are considered your best friend, some are not. No matter what, if your mom is a positive force in your life…you are lucky, and if you are only recognizing that fact one day a year you need to up your game. After all…because of you she pees a little when she sneezes. And, lets remember, you’re not nearly as charismatic as the alien that burst out of that dudes chest in Spaceballs…