It teaches you a few things…
Like how to open a stroller with your teeth.
That zone defense stinks. Man-to-man is the only way to go.
And that you can achieve perfection…
in your efforts to mimic the voice of Goofy.
Only to be asked to use it in every conversation
for an entire year.
You learn that relief is always temporary…
Your next gig?
Oscar the Grouch.
You realize that those fascinating psychological studies revealed NOTHING about the real-world effects of sleep deprivation.
Because in the real world, you find yourself ending phone conversations with “Love you” no matter who is on the line…
The cable guy.
You stumble around for days not knowing the season or year.
You use the dog’s name when speaking to your child.
And you lose your keys 87,000 times —
only to find them lurking in the strangest places…
The file cabinet under “S”
Good thing the Devil never shows up —
because you become the kind of person who would gladly hand over her soul AND the 401(k) for a 20-minute nap.
You discover that hazmat suits are for sissies —
a person can actually have continual exposure to bodily fluids and live to tell the tale.
And tell the tale you will — to anyone, no matter who, no matter where…
Miss Manners be damned.
Turns out, that was a cakewalk.
And unless your advanced degree was in choo choos or birdies, nobody you work with gives a hoot.
Yeah, I’m still stumbling my way through the mommy years.
I've done well enough to reach the “teen” level.
And this is a tough one —
They've figured out that I have no idea what I’m doing.
Even so, I've done okay.
How do I know?
If I were in a maturity contest and pitted against my own offspring…
They would win.
PROMPT: Erma Bombeck made an entire writing career out of motherhood. So, if you mother something — be it human, hairy, or
houseplant — you've got material. And hey, if you see a mother this weekend, give her a hug. Better yet — a nap.