Like most ungrateful grown middle aged children, I found myself combing through aisles of cards at the deep discount retail operation everyone loves to hate. What can I say? The store is conveniently located and it’s replaced the manufacturing sector as the blue collar employment opportunity of the masses. At least until the economy recovers. No I didn’t type that with a straight face, even though I wish it were true.
Most of the time, I don’t bother getting a card for Mother’s Day, but I wanted something more formal to hold the photos I took. Commercial cards aren’t my thing. They express emotions I don’t feel, use words not in my vocabulary, and shellac raw emotion in artificial carcinogenic sweetness. I don’t want to exchange currency for contrived sentiment mass produced on non-recycled velum layered, uv coated paper, that’s designed to appeal to millions of other consumers shopping at the last minute. I’m not polished or well presented, just succinct and honest in an extremely unfortunate way.
I settled on simple card cloaked in sarcasm and brevity. I want to be certain my Mom knows I read the card before I purchased it. Nothing is as embarrassing as receiving the OMG, you didn’t read this because YOU would never use words this sappy and sentimental to show appreciation. Your idea of showing love means trimming the hedge or hauling away tree limbs after a wind storm eye-roll and sigh.
I know her and she knows me, pretending to be different people in glorification of a commercially castrated holiday, only serves to insult both of us. Of course if she really longed for a sappy card, I’d be more than happy to have my husband select one for her, it is after all her day, and he is better at choosing sentimental cards than I am.
So, I’m not mawkish, but I do pay attention to what my mom likes. Birds. She feeds them year around. She even refers to a certain ruby throated migratory bird as a sexual euphemism that can get you arrested in most southern states, but I think I’ll wait until she’s older to explain what a hummer really is.
I’m guessing it must be mother’s day soon.
What a great picture. I’m going to pretend they are kissing and not fighting over a seed.
what you said.
Father’s day is worse, for me. So I totally cop out and use my kids. I let them scribble up something and turn that in as evidence of love.
meno, everyday is mother’s day. What we really need is a Mother sit on your ass, and eat cookies day.
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De, so my maybe I should ask my husband’s adult children to decorate cards for me, sweet, yes?
Oh, yes.
we do nothing but sarcastic cards in this family – it’s our trademark.
because really, holidays wouldn’t be any fun if we weren’t making fun of each other.
sari,
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maggie, sarcasm makes the heart grow fonder, wait that’s not right, thena again ,maybe it is.