Mother's Day. Mine is coming over for brunch. I'm making a seafood stew, and I have some other culinary treats. Tulips and a card from Whole Foods. Pretty sweet, right? Then, this morning, in the N.Y. Times, I see this.
Apparently not. Now I am feeling bad. Just another typical son move. I should have thought more about it and got her something that would make her life easier or more meaningful. That is what the article says. All I can think of is a service pony.
Maybe next year.
But life isn't like a Steve Martin movie. Think of all the baby mama meth-heads out there who just want to get fucked up today. Have I killed your middle-class romantic life buzz?
I'm doing the best I can here. It's been a tough year.
But Facebook will be full of lifestyle photos of brunches and flowers and social media smiles to show what a happy people we are. We are not successful if we don't look happy doing what is expected of us. Dad making brunch, trying to get the kids interested in making mom's day special. Kids trying their best for a few minutes.
"C'mon in here, kids. Let's get a picture together."
Older moms get phone calls or FaceTime from their kids far away. What is there to say?
"Happy Mother's Day, mom! Did you get the flowers we sent? We really wish we could be there. Kids. . . get over here and say hi to grandma!"
It's what people do, as they say.