Maybe you’re sitting on a stool in your kitchen right now, surveying the damage from breakfast. You look in bewilderment at what appears to be the remnants of a crumb monsoon. You stare at your cup of coffee, looking for the answers to life’s questions. About that time, your kids run past you. They tear around the living room leaving a wake of toys, books, and unidentified underwear. They are screaming in decibels your mind cannot compute.
“MOM!!!” they shout in pure glee, “Can we have a SNACK???”
Grab yourself some protein, my friend, (yes, I mean Nutella) and get another cup of coffee…
because this is probably what they meant to say:
Thank you. Thank you for cleaning up my poop and forcing me to eat vegetables so I don’t get Scurvy. You even go so far as to blend them in to smoothies thinking that I will not notice. I do notice Mom. That sh*t is gross, but thank you for trying. Sorry that I cried about your efforts for two straight hours.
Thank you Mom, for saving my life on a daily basis. It seemed like a good idea to tie an anchor around my foot and jump into the water – but I can see from your enthusiasm and loud talking that that idea really sucked bad. Sorry about that Mom. I noticed you don’t think all of my ideas suck bad, just a few of them. I appreciate that.
Thank you Mom, for saving the neighbor kids from being killed or otherwise injured when I decided to start throwing small boulders in their direction. I didn’t want to hurt anyone Mom, I thought they’d probably think, “Wow that guy is good at rock throwing. He’s the coolest kid I’ve ever seen.” I can see I was wrong about that now. I can also see that you look like you need an adult beverage. Mom, if I was 21, I would get one for you.
Thank you Mom, for vacuuming, sweeping and mopping over and over again. Sorry for running, screaming, and clinging to your leg while you do it. Now that you’re done, I was wondering if I could have some Cheerios, and juice in a cup without a lid.
JK, just messin’ with you Mom.
Thank you Mom for reading the same book about kittens over and over and over. I realize now that I should become obsessed with more books that have bigger pictures and less words. That makes sense. Also, thank you for letting me watch annoying television shows. Sorry that you now you have, “You can count on us to save the day…umizummmi!” stuck in your head for the rest of eternity. Mom, you are the best.
Thank you Mom for mediating our disagreements and helping us to realize that the pink crayon isn’t the ONLY pink crayon on the face of the planet.
It seemed like it was Mom, it really seemed like it was.
Thank you Mom, for reminding us that there is a large supply of water in our state and that shouting at each other to “NOT TO DRINK ALL OF IT!” is probably not a realistic concern. It’s cool that you always feed us too. I noticed that. Sorry for reminding you 45 times while you’re putting food on my plate that I’m hungry and I don’t like salad. I’ll go ahead and eat that salad, Mom. I’ll might not even gag every time I try and swallow – just because I love you.
Thank you Mom, for tough love. Thanks for crushing my dreams of running around open flames and wearing cowboy boots without socks. Thank you for making me mad by having me clean my room and not spit scrambled eggs onto the floor. Someday I’ll get it. I know I act like you are the Grinch that stole my Christmas, but deep down I adore you…I really do.
I think you are the one that hung the moon and makes the stars sparkle. Don’t let my tantrums, rage, or piercing screams fool you – you are my world. No one on this planet can hug me the way you do, or kiss away the pains like you. No one can speak to my soul that “I am wonderful, and strong, and smart,” the way that you do. I love you.
Mom, you are irreplaceable…
You freaking rock.
This post originally appeared at Wonderoak.com.