My friend, Greta, has three kids. The oldest is Aubrey, a most delightful child. This is the girl who just this past Sunday raced down the hall and tried with mighty intent to cut in front of me on her way to the Primary room. And being the absolute and utter child that I am, I continually pushed in front of her so she couldn't get around (what, like it was an emergency that she had to be there at a certain time? I didn't think so). And when it finally looked as if she would get past my hulking frame I took the tone of voice I usually take when addressing medium-aged children and said, "YOU WOULDN'T BE TRYING TO CUT IN FRONT OF ME, WOULD YOU??" To which she sheepishly smiled and then immediately began to push past me again. But my legs are longer so I prevailed in the end anyway. Now that lass is my kinda girl.
A couple of days ago this same lovely child wrote her parents lovely thank you letters, which, combined with childhood honesty, turned out to be lovely insults to their parenting skills. I love it! However, reading through her notes to each of them (a good beginning effort for her), and feeling the need to appoint myself Role Model For Disillusioned Children Everywhere, I decided I can do even better. Take copious notes, my dear girl!
I love you! I love the way you pay attention to all of my other siblings before me; they need it more than I and it also teaches me to not have to rely on others for the attention I so desperately crave and that the school counselors insist I need to be a functioning member of society. I really appreciate that you make me wait for meals, even though I've been hungry and begging for food for hours; next time I promise not to tell the pediatrician that you do that...because I love you! I really like how you laugh at everything I do, even when I didn't mean to be funny or when I'm crying. After all, bad attention is better than none at all!
Thank you for doing chores and cleaning up my "messes" and making me food and sending me to school. You're right, that's so much better than loving me. I also love the rags you dress me in because I'm pretty sure it's teaching me humility somehow. According to my Primary teachers, that's a good thing, even if I don't get any sleep because I'm crying too much. And thank you for all the compliments you give me, even if they do sound pretty damn hollow.
Thank you for once in a blue moon retelling my birth story. If nothing else, it makes it pretty clear that all those security precautions at the hospital meant I wasn't switched at birth after all. And the recounting of your pain and misery just to see me into this world really makes me grateful I wasn't twins or we both would have been out on the street ages ago. Only one of me means you only resent me 50% of the time! Good thing I love you 100% of the time to make up for it!
You're such a great mother, Mom. Other kids dread Mother's Day, too, right?
Thanks for being such a fantastic parent! I love you so much! And thanks for marrying Mom. Are you sure you really hunted around first though?