Ask Your Mother
Last night, my cousin and I took the blue hairs (we’ve jokingly called them this for years, and for whatever reason, they like it) to dinner for Mother’s Day so we can actually enjoy our own Mother’s Day on Sunday and shit. We like to take them together because, in their elder years, they get snippy and argue about whether you say PINE-EEEs or Peonies, and crotch or crouch. We get a hell of a laugh out of it, but they also start to grate on us after a bit.
Also, we both wanted biscuits and cappuccino from this fly ass place by my cousin’s house.
We had an OK time.
After I got home and poured myself a much needed glass of red, I started thinking about being a mom, everything that comes with it, everything you lose (like spontaneity and sex), as well as everything you gain.
My mom isn’t a perfect mom, but she’s about as close as you can get. She made my childhood magical using 100% creativity, 100% love, and 0% dollars.
She cooked dinner every night, read to us, sang to us, and made sure we always felt loved. She put herself aside to raise us, and while that’s maybe not the best thing to do, it was what she wanted. It was her career, and she’s proud of it.
Did she say Pringles were nutritional because they were made from potatoes, and Reese’s were a great breakfast because they had both peanut butter (a protein) and chocolate (a dairy)?
As I said, she is almost perfect.
But moms, man, moms have some knowledge.
Do you want to hear a story about the most heartbreaking moment, one that will bring tears to your eyes and make your heart actually ache?
Ask your mother.
Wanna hear about the greatest love, a love that is pure and real and unbreakable?
Ask your mother.
Need a story about the proudest moment of someone’s life?
Mhhhmmm. Ask your mother.
How about the feeling of absolute terror, like everything you’ve done is wrong and you’ll never get anything right?
Ask your fuckin’ mother.
Yeah, moms will get you straight, really fast. You might get your face smacked a few times, a lecture or thirty, or a look so scary you’d rather go home to Satan.
But they’re also there with the warmest hugs, the widest smiles, and the absolute best intentions.
And that fierce protection, it’s truly unparalleled.
And if your experience with your mom isn’t the same, I’m so fucking sorry. I know Mother’s Day can hit differently for people whose relationships with their moms are painful, complicated, or even absent. If today is tough or brings up anything heavy, you deserve acknowledgment and care. You’re seen, and you’re just as much a part of this story, even if it looks nothing like mine.
And you know what, just ask me.
I’ll be your fuckin’ mother. ❤️❤️
Look at these goddamn biscuits.
✌️— GC
HMD, Ginger.
That looks like a version of an English Cream Tea.
My mother knows EVERY cream tea shop in the country. Our Mother's Day way a few weeks ago.
It also had me wondering in this day and age of equality, why there's no equivalent term like "fatherfucker"? Doesn't hit the emotional home quite as hard I guess. Mothers are very special.
Wonderful. Have a biscuit filled mom’s day!