It's Mothers' Day 2005

I can’t get worked up about receiving presents for Mothers’ Day. Some ladies seem to attach great significance to this fairly-recently-established tradition. It just escapes me.

It’s not that I don’t love stuff because the Good Lord knows that I have my share and the third world’s share too. As the water heater installer remarked this week, “I never saw so much stuff. This place is long over-due for a garage sale.” (He was kinder than my husband who rants about renting a dumpster, but I know that popular opionion would be on my husband's side. Son #1 has proposed giving me a Viking funeral in the living room when the time comes as a solution that would solve two problems at once.)

Perhaps the gifts aren't important to me because I feel the merchants have really gone over-board with their hype. Who needs to get a gift someone felt pressured into giving because Heaven help the child who forgets his mommy on Mothers’ Day. (You’re thinking perhaps it’s because she can’t fit one more thing into that house. No, that’s not it because I felt this way before I had all my stuff.)

All I know is that I feel blessed that I have a couple of kids - that’s more than gift enough for me.