THE SONIC BOOMER
This Sunday is Mother’s Day. I say this as a public service announcement, to give you time to buy jewelry, clothing, purses, candy, a Wet-Vac, whatever you think your mom would enjoy the most. Hopefully you’ve already sent a card and, on Sunday, will make that all-important phone call.
It’s a misconception that we mothers look forward to this day with rabid expectation. Often, we don’t even think about it until it’s upon us. A small child carrying a tray that has a bowl of cereal sloshing around on it is wake-up call enough. We will stifle our “Careful!” and let the vase with the rose fall over the side. “It’s OK,” we’ll smile. Because it is, really.
But for grown-up children who forget, it’s Monday you have to watch out for.
Because on Monday, some of our female co-workers will come in wearing new earrings, bracelets and rings. Some will be hiding a box of chocolates in one of their desk drawers. Some will be in new blouses that may or may not fit, but they will be wearing them proudly.
Compliments will be exchanged. “That blouse may be riding up over your belly button, but it sure is a lovely color. I have always loved fluorescent orange.”
“My 10-year-old son picked it out.”
“Of course he did.”
“My husband told him I’d like it.”
“Of course he did.”
“I feel like I’m on the roads crew.”
“Of course you do.”
But the point is, the kid picked it out, the father was with him, they conversed. It was a good Mother’s Day prequel.
For adult children, it’s harder — especially if you don’t live close enough to take mom to Sunday brunch. In that case, you must plan well in advance and do things that will take time from your busy schedule. (Yes, we know you have a very busy schedule. We had other plans the night you were born, too, but we went to the hospital instead.)
The Internet has made it possible to put your boss’s clients on hold while you order your Mother’s Day gift online, but you’re still going to need to allow for delivery time. Online games and e-cards can be sent at the last minute, but you better have the kind of mom who appreciates that kind of thing.
“What did you get from your daughter on Mother’s Day?”
“My computer tells me it has something called an e-card waiting for me, but I don’t know how to open it. She comes for a visit in three months; I’ll have her open it then.”
“I got an e-coupon, but I’ll have to wait until Thanksgiving to find out what it’s for.”
And for the offspring who forgets the day entirely? Let’s look in on his mother’s Monday morning:
“What did you get for Mother’s Day?”
“Mmmphf.”
“Nothing?!”
(Whimper)
“Does that kid know how long you were in labor with him? Does he realize you still have a scar? Did he even call you?”
(No response, soft thump as mom’s head flops down onto her desk.)
I’d like to be more encouraging about this, but the truth is, you have 364 days to make it up to her.
And that’s exactly how long it’s going to take.
