Today is the greatest holiday in the world, if you were to ask most mothers. It's the one day out of the year they can sit back and do nothing other than bask in the glory of having birthed a generation of greedy little wenches who will one day sit back and bask in the glory of having birthed a generation of even greedier little wenches. I find it hilarious that Mother's Day is the most eaten out holiday because it proves that even in 2011 mothers still cook. As families the only way we know how to let mothers get a day off is by taking them out to eat. Don't worry moms, one day we'll learn how to cook!
In honor of Mother's Day, I decided that the best blog I could write is one about me. My mom mothered me to be a self-assured and overconfident young individual who thinks primarily about himself, and this is best illustrated in a Mother's Day blog about no one other than me. So to all you mothers out there, enjoy this blog describing to you why I, Clayton O'Dell, would make an incredible mother.
I love doing dishes. There are plenty of household chores I dislike, but as any man born before 1980 knows, the woman's place is in the kitchen. For the 364.25 non-Mother's Days throughout the year, a mother ought to be in the kitchen, cooking, cleaning, and doing the dishes. I know that the job of being a mother is fairly difficult and not the most enjoyable thing in the world, so the fact that I actually like to do dishes would make me a great mother. Plus, dishwater would keep my delicate hands neat and clean.
I like minivans. Being a mother wouldn't be a tough job if mothers were allowed to keep their angelic little heathens at home, but eventually reasons to leave the house crop up: soccer games, school, grocery runs, visits to check and see if daddy's really working late or is out getting wings, etc. Children are apparently required to sit in carseats, and most kids require water and books and toys and other completely unnecessary items that necessitate a vehicle larger than the hot little two-door that pre-moms were allowed to drive. Well, unborn children of the world, fear not! I would make a great mother because I love minivans. I think they're stylin' and luxurious, and nothing gives me more pleasure than flooring it in a minivan and speeding past a wannabe sports car with a dopey grin on my face. Though maybe the fact that my driving skills are more geared toward showmanship than safety makes me a better dad than mom.
I'm the best subtle hater ever. We all know the archetype of the overbearing, boastful soccer mom who will stop at nothing to prove that her incompetent child is better than your competent one. Unlike father dynamics where guys air their grievances with one another and sometimes get drunk enough to punch each other (but never press charges), there is an unwritten rule that mothers can only fight with words, and even then can never let it be public that they're fighting. Well folks, let me tell you that I am a sarcastic young man who's been granted an overabundant dose of sarcasm and subtlety. If someone thinks they can lie about their kid being better than me, I can cut you (not your child!) down in front of the other moms without ever saying anything exact enough to get me in trouble. But if it ever does come down to a fight, I can pull hair with the best of them.
I don't really understand technology. It took me over a month to discover how to put captions on the pictures I uploaded to our blog (but it wasn't my fault!). I have consistent trouble with my cellphone. I have only used an Ipod once or twice in my life, at most. I can use technology in a functioning manner, but there is no possible way I could understand how to double-check my kids' browsing history or track their texts. As a mother, it would be my duty to make sure my kids were doing what I want them to do (fathers don't believe in such) so perhaps it's bad that I don't fully understand technology, but every kid needs an outlet that mom can't comprehend, right?
Mommy can read! I suppose dads do it just as much, but I have been recognized on three separate occasions with statewide awards for Best Children's Book Reader. There's nothing better than sitting in bed and having your parents read you to sleep, unless you're a mother reading your child to sleep. I do need to reexamine my book choice, though, since I don't believe most children would appreciate listening to The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich as they fell asleep. Oh well, they'll learn.
You know, now that I think about it, being a mother isn't all that easy. I may know how to take care of a child for an afternoon, an evening, maybe even a weekend, but for eighteen years?!? I couldn't mother someone for eighteen years, but mothers go even further - a mother's job is never done. I'm 23, Andrew's 26, yet our mother still takes care of us (and our cacophony of siblings) and works hard at it. A mother's job is never done, and there's no way I could outmother the mothers I know. Keep up the good work, ladies. (:
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