What We Missed. V.1
What's a mother to do? So many interesting moments and not enough time to comment. It's been so long since we visited MadgeWorld that we forgot our password. We shall attempt to play catch up.
You may know how much we loath fake holidays.
Like Grandparent's Day.
Sweetheart's Day.
Office Administration Helper Day.
However, we bow to convention and acknowledge that Mother's day has passed. If we were in the mood to comment, this is what we'd say.
How the hell did this group of benignly neglected children. . .
. . . grow up without being incarcarated, or appearing on a "missing" poster?
Perhaps on Mother's Day we should celebrate the offspring's successful arrival into adulthood in spite of our parenting style. One might describe it as laissez faire crossed with a little Machiavelli. Let us take this opportunity, weeks after Mother's Day, to publicly apologize:
- Austin: Sorry about putting BenGay on your broken leg and telling you it would feel better in the morning. We thought you were faking. No wonder you don't trust us.
- Nora: Sorry about being chronically late to pick you up. Especially that time in the winter when you had to wait outside with wet hair after swimming practice. That may explain your neurosis about being on time. It doesn't explain the swearing.
- Chronic nagging about homework. Paddy, we were desperate. Forgive. But what's up with the tattoos?
- Meggie: For the low-rent orthodontist. The wires that came undone and skewered your tongue. Ouch. We admit fault. Additional piercings optional.
What's a mother to do? Being careful not to smack of cheap sentimentality-- you all make me proud to be your mama. Now, stand up straight, get a job and get your life in order.
Listening to: Music from La Dolce Vita by Nino Rota
You may know how much we loath fake holidays.
Like Grandparent's Day.
Sweetheart's Day.
Office Administration Helper Day.
However, we bow to convention and acknowledge that Mother's day has passed. If we were in the mood to comment, this is what we'd say.
How the hell did this group of benignly neglected children. . .
. . . grow up without being incarcarated, or appearing on a "missing" poster?
Perhaps on Mother's Day we should celebrate the offspring's successful arrival into adulthood in spite of our parenting style. One might describe it as laissez faire crossed with a little Machiavelli. Let us take this opportunity, weeks after Mother's Day, to publicly apologize:
- Austin: Sorry about putting BenGay on your broken leg and telling you it would feel better in the morning. We thought you were faking. No wonder you don't trust us.
- Nora: Sorry about being chronically late to pick you up. Especially that time in the winter when you had to wait outside with wet hair after swimming practice. That may explain your neurosis about being on time. It doesn't explain the swearing.
- Chronic nagging about homework. Paddy, we were desperate. Forgive. But what's up with the tattoos?
- Meggie: For the low-rent orthodontist. The wires that came undone and skewered your tongue. Ouch. We admit fault. Additional piercings optional.
What's a mother to do? Being careful not to smack of cheap sentimentality-- you all make me proud to be your mama. Now, stand up straight, get a job and get your life in order.
Listening to: Music from La Dolce Vita by Nino Rota
posted by MadgeMc at 8:18 AM
3 Comments:
Dear Margaret,
Hmmm. I called Devin a "little bastard" when he wouldn't get dressed for school and pretended to have a case of tetnus when I tried to forcibly dress him. Mary Margaret swears I only gave her a pen for her 16th birthday. And late. They were always sitting like forgotten orphans on the bench at "Creative Clubhouse" and me owing $6 or something insane per minute I was late.
You're a great mother Margaret. And it sure is good to SEE you at work! Now we have to try to DO something!
xoxox
Another mother - martha
I refuse to believe that there is any job in this world you did not excel at.
BTW- u have a beautiful family!
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