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Poems from Parenthood: Worst Mother’s Day Ever

Catherine Prosser

Worst Mother’s Day Ever

It started with love and the best of intentions.

The gift did show flair. And thought. And invention.

An effort together from Father and Sons.

Much Mother’s Day Love for their Mother’s Day Mum.

But much as they pave that well-known road to Hell

good intentions can stuff Mother’s Day up as well.

On Mother’s Day Eve, they presented with glee

and great pride, the schedule they’d made just for me.

A full day of love from each son to his mother.

A tag team affair, passed from brother to brother.

The first clue my darlings had quite lost their way

as to what constituted a good Mother’s Day

was the starting time listed, and I kid you not,

for the first item…

Seven thirty AM.

On the dot.

7:30am – Rise early and shine!

Don’t linger. The day awaits! Sunny and fine.

Take your youngest for breakfast.

There’s nothing so peaceful

as a too-early breakfast with too many people

and a four-year-old, saying if he had his druthers

he’d go home, right now, and just play with his brothers.

9:30am – Get into the kitchen!

(Lazy Mother’s Day mornings are clearly just fiction.)

The next item scheduled seems to be baking

with the six-year-old son. And so eggs are breaking

and flour is dusting and teaspoons are dripping

and my grip on sanity slowly is slipping.

But it doesn’t stop there.  No!  Part of the fun

is cleaning it up again, Mother and Son.

11:30am – A barbeque lunch

at the park, with some friends.  But I have a hunch…

…and yes, it turns out that the friends are not mine,

but my husband’s, and… they didn’t bring wine.

1:30pm – Back to the flat.

But not for a nap, you can be sure of that.

The seven-year-old now shows me a game

and then, for the next forty minutes, explains

the rules which involve things like spaceships and range

and weapons and upgrades and other things strange.

Then I have to play it and try to pretend

to be disappointed when finally it ends.

Later…

So, says my husband, much love in his eyes,

“Was the day with the boys the right kind of surprise?

They all picked out something to do just with you.

They had such a good time, and I hope you did too.”

“Thank you, my love.  I could see the thought there.

It’s great to be loved and to know that you care.

But I’ll tell you a secret.  The best Mother’s Day

is the one…

… where the Dad…

… takes the children…

… AWAY!”

Poems from Parenthood is a tongue in cheek series by Canberra writer Catherine Prosser. Read more of the series here

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Catherine Prosser

Catherine comes from the often surreal world of live theatre and has worked with many writers and directors in creating and developing original works, including being part of the team which brought Shaun Tan’s fabulous book “The Lost Thing” to the stage. She now devotes all her energies to writing – working on a children’s novel, children’s TV series “Hoop” and other projects. Catherine is the co-founder of Magenius, a creative writing partnership. Catherine is the mother of three boys. More about the Author

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