I'm writing today to say YOU ARE NOT ALONE. We are legion...
And you need to protect yourself...remember, the best armor here is EXTREMELY LOW EXPECTATIONS.
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Written in 2011:
For many years -- I spent Mother's Day lamenting the fact that it was such a NON-EVENT in my house.
One year, the boys were maybe ten and six years old -- I made breakfast, did laundry...the usual running after two small kids. They had nothing for me...no gift, no card, no burned-toast-breakfast in bed. Hummm. At some point, I started banging cupboard doors. John was completely perplexed. We had a big fight...and when he said, "but you're not my mother"...I slammed out of the house, got in my car, and spent Mother's Day afternoon sitting in a parking lot, crying my eyes out.
Now -- so many years later -- I can look back and laugh. At this point, John starts planning Mother's Day a month in advance. "What do you want to do, hon? Where should we go to eat? Do you want me to grill out?"...He shops for the most beautiful, sentimental Hallmark Mother's Day card...
And, hey -- one year, Ross and Elliott went together and bought me a clock.
But I am old enough and wise enough to know the truth -- that no son ever went into a jewelry store and ordered a "mother's ring". It's always DAUGHTERS who do that kind of thoughtful shopping. We girls put together the gifts, the dinners, the special occasions.
So on this Mother's Day, I hung around the house until 2:00 PM -- waiting for the phone to ring...before I remembered.
I am the mother of boys...
And, oh yes, they were lucky to have me....
And someday -- long after I'm gone -- it's gonna dawn on them...
P. S. Please do not send me an email, telling me that YOUR son is a thoughtful, considerate gift-giver who always buys you the perfect present. You just got lucky -- your son is gay.
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