Curse of the Mommy


Remember the first time your own mother looked at you with that steely stare, jaw clenched, mouth pursed in lips of fury and enunciated with deadly purpose, “Just wait until you have children”?

What did you do?  I laughed.  I hooted – guffawed with the realization that she was, of course, nuts.  I mean, come on.  How could anyone with all of her marbles become unglued, actually psychotic, over some childish misadventure or comment?  Honestly, an orangutan could do a better job with kids.  Although I don’t recall, I probably then enlightened my mother with my blistering critique and rapier wit, which of course would have led to bedroom incarceration to think about it.

Fast forward 30-plus years and who’s laughing now?  What about all of those times when an orangutan would have come in handy, if for nothing else than comedic relief?  Those times when you, yourself actually uttered those six little words, the Universal Mother’s Hex: “Just Wait Until You Have Children!”

My three children are grown now, productive members of society all, voters and consumers.  (Pats self on back.)  There are no grandchildren yet, and I await that advent with interest and a bit of bemusement – Ah-ha!  Now they’ll finally get it!


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