Well, this column is the 30th that I have written. I am happy to say that this week is dedicated to all those treasured women who deserve to have a special day for us to acknowledge what a wonderous role they play in our lives.
Mums, this is your special day, Happy Mother’s Day.
You know, when you look at what mums have to go through in life, they really are getting the rough end of the bloody pineapple (remember it is a fruit not a veggie).
First up, they almost break their backs carrying bub around in their bellies for 9 months.
This is followed by the agony of kicking the bubba out of their warm swimming pool and into this brightly lit world only to carry them around on their hips for the next few years as they scream and demand every bloody thing they see.
Oh, and we cannot forget the endless nights/weeks/months of sleep deprivation bub gives her as they cried for whatever reason that only bub knows, just to make sure mum still remembered they were there.
Mums have had to endure the constant ear-piercing screams of “I Bloody Want a Feed NOW” and once mum had satisfied that tantrum, she then had the privilege of burping bub, and if she was lucky then bub would spew all over her shoulder, just to remind her who really was the boss.
To top it off ever further, just when everyone thinks bub is dozing, out comes a loud fart followed by the smelliest, dirtiest bursting nappy that you would be ever so lucky to witness, accompanied by a sweet-as-pie giggle from bub, as they celebrate their crowning achievement to invigorate mum’s life.
Now, as bub gets older and bigger, they start to crawl and do their best to break everything that mum values. Mum will routinely move everything she thinks bub could break up high, and as bub starts upright walking and running, smashing their noggin into everything imaginable mum will calmly deal with yet another crying fit.
Then it comes time for the fantastic shopping trips where the kids run rampant all over the shopping centres, and again demand toys, lollies, ice creams and rides on every brightly lit, noisy, spinny thing they see.
We cannot forget those formidable years of select growth milestones like the “Terrible 2’s” followed with the “But I Need it 5’s” and we should never forget the “Slamming the Bedroom Door Because You Are the Worst Parent EVER 14’s”.
Now, I passionately believe that mums around the world are truly getting ripped off, and that there should really be a Mother’s Day every Sunday morning between 8am to 12pm and should include brekky in bed and 4 hours of complete “Shut the Hell Up” time.
If you are lucky enough to have a great mum, shower her with love, some really nice chocolates, flowers and even a dress shop gift card, because she deserves it.
Wayne
