Us moms have to do stuff for people every..single..damn..day of the year. How many totally boring school concerts have we sat through? How many stupid cupcakes have we frosted for birthday parties? How many hours have we spent listening to these people we gave birth to drone on and on about the merits of Super Mario and his crew when we just want to read about Beyonce with some damn peace and quiet? And on Sunday, it is OUR day. It’s the day we are supposed to be allowed to do what WE want, as opposed to doing junk like raising our voices a few octaves so we could play being Barbie‘s dark-haired, less fashionable, not-dating-Ken‘s cleaning lady Brenda and feeding the stupid and possibly bulimic cat at five in the morning because we are the only person who can magically hear him shrieking in the kitchen. It’s OUR day. But it won’t really be OUR day because we will end up doing shit the people we live with want us to do, all under the guise of “celebrating Mother’s Day.”
Give me a break.
If it’s Mother’s Day I wanna do the shit I like to do. You know what I like doing? I like going to Sephora or Ulta or any other major department store cosmetic counter and making fun of the fact there is a Justin Bieber fragrance for women (and not prepubescent boys) and asking things loudly like “What kind of asshole wears orange eyeshadow?” and complaining about the prices of nail polish. Will my family think this is a fine way to celebrate Mother’s Day? Nooooo. I like eating an onion bagel with cream cheese and that disgusting hot dog factory floor scrapings product called liverwurst that you buy for three dollars (No “meat” should ever cost three dollars, ever) and washing it down with a lemony vodka tonic and watching horror movies that involve giant bunny rabbits who terrorize a small desert town. Will anyone else wanna do this? Nooooo. I like petting kittens and binge-viewing marathons of TV shows (No, I still haven’t seen Justified) and putting on a face mask and waiting for it to dry while I play Plants VS. Zombies. One of these years I’m going to demand that this is how we spend Mother’s Day.
Or I could be even meaner and suggest that we do other really stupid things that would totally be in my right as a mother who is a mother every day of the year. I could drag everyone in my family to a discount store “portrait studio” and make them all pose against a blue backdrop wearing color-coordinated ensembles. I could make them fill my flower beds with perennials. I could make them SING to me, songs all about moms and how great moms are and how I am the best mom ever. Complete with dance choreography. We need to take back Mother’s Day. Yes, I appreciate the fact my husband will buy me flowers and everyone will take me to lunch and I will get to watch Game Of Thrones and just DVR Mad Men and I won’t have to wash a single dish, but wouldn’t it be badass if we all started to get our truly selfish on the one day of the year we are allowed to be truly selfish?
Next year I’m demanding access to a pile of kittens I can pet and a bad family portrait of them all in stupid sweaters. I’m a mom. I’ve earned it.