Sunday, May 10, 2009

More Mother's Day Stories & Poems

In church today, the focus was of course on mothers. During one talk a few poems were read about mothers. One of which I had heard, and another I hadn't heard before but could totally appreciate it. I don't have a copy of it, so I will simply paraphrase. About a son who did a list of chores for his mother and put what he felt was an appropriate fee next to it. The mother took the paper and turned it over and wrote a list of things she had done from carrying the child for nine months to wiping his nose and so on. Her charge for each item was zero because her love did not have a price tag. It was very sweet. The other one, I have heard before, and I will share it here. I have always loved it. It is called "Was Your Mom Mean?"

Was your Mom mean?

I know mine was. We had the meanest mother in the whole world! While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches. And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was different from what other kids had, too.

Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were, and what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said, we would be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.

We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child Labour Laws by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds, learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, empty the trash and all sorts of cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at night thinking of more things for us to do.

She always insisted on us telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds and had eyes in the back of her head. Then, life was really tough!

Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up. They had to come up to the door so she could meet them.

Because of our mother, we missed out on lots of things other kids experienced. None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing other's property or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault.

Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was.

I think that is what's wrong with the world today. It just doesn't have enough mean moms!

I have always liked this poem. When my daughter heard it, she decided she would write her own poem. After all, who was this person to say that HER mom was mean!? And she certainly would not have me thinking that she thought I was mean. I assured her it wasn't a jab at my skills, rather an homage to them. But nonetheless she wrote this sweet, pure and beautiful sentiment.

I Have the Nicest Mother
By Kristin Kolar
My mother is so nice,
when I have a boo-boo she is my band-aid.
When I am sick
she is my giant white blood cell
When I am hungry
she is my food.
But most of all,
When I am a child,
She is my Mom!


Carolynn said...

Sometimes being a mother has great rewards. I love those times.

Emmy said...

That is a great poem/story. I haven't heard that one before.