In the absence of a legitimate religious celebration to increase revenue between Easter and Christmas, marketing gurus appeal to our guilty nature by pressuring us to celebrate parental accomplishment in the form of appreciation holidays. Twice a year we fall prey to rampant consumerism designed to make us inadequately repentant about being assholes when we were kids. In my unqualified professional opinion, it is definitely working.
The pressure to purchase a thoughtful gift within a qualified time frame is often more than most us can handle. The Missus tries to keep her eyes peeled for ideas throughout the year, but it was to no avail. In lieu of a brilliantly awesome present, the Missus picked out a hibiscus plant, a couple cards, and left to spend the day with her mom (the time taken was probably regarded as the real present).
Mother and daughter relationships are often tricky. Theirs hasn’t always been a cake walk, but now they share a respectful though distant relationship as two grown women. The Missus doesn’t ask for advice and Gah Gah (her mom) is usually ignored when she issues it.
They were sharing small talk after lunch, when Gah Gah remarked about a conversation she had regarding adult children. The older the children grew, the more pleased they were about stunts they pulled as kids, and the more likely they were to brag to their aging parents about it. The Missus just smiled.
Gah Gah went on to say,”I think I’ve already heard enough from you three about your adventures. I don’t care to know anymore.”
The Missus pointed out her two older siblings had more stories to tell about age six through eighteen than she did. But, she was careful to qualify, from ages eighteen through twenty-five she might have a few skeletons in her closet. Gah Gah laughed a little nervously.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Part of my Mother’s Day gift to you is not owning up to any of those things that happened either. They weren’t life threatening, but they were really embarrassing learning experiences. I won’t share those, unless trying to one up my girlfriends.”
You know that has to make a mother proud.
May 13, 2007 at 12:16 am |
Now THAT was the real Mother’s Day present. What an exceptionally thoughtful daughter Missus Chicca was today. I’m sure that her mother appreciated her restraint and visit far more than a bottle of perfume.
May 13, 2007 at 8:42 am |
Lynn, its funny how your pride shifts to shame over THOSE incidents. One yearyou’re pleased with yourself because you beat the system and you don’t seem to be worse off than before. Then years later you beat yourself up about being so foolish and thoughtless.
May 13, 2007 at 10:13 am |
I can definitely relate to what you are saying. I think back to many of the things that I did when I was younger and cringe with embarassment, yet at the time I did those things, I was feeling on top of the world. I guess shame is what comes with the perspective of maturity (yikes).
May 13, 2007 at 11:28 am |
Oh no, the Missus can’t possibly be experiencing a bout of maturity. It just isn’t possible…
May 13, 2007 at 12:13 pm |
The first paragraph is even more brilliant that your usual. All hail the great god Hallmark.
Nice Mother’s Day present.
May 13, 2007 at 1:19 pm |
Yeah, not being smug about being bad successfully is a nice mother’s day present.
May 13, 2007 at 2:58 pm |
meno, thank you. I wish I could maintain the tempo. Alas, the more words I use, the more I risk muddling the point…Have a lovely day.
esreth, good to hear from you. I hope you are well rested from your brief hiatus.