Mother’s Day
by Marc Parsont
Mother’s Day terrifies me. I have an opportunity to make up for everything I may have done poorly, am doing wrong or will do poorly as a husband and as the caretaker in the house. If I get it right, brownie points until her birthday. If I get it wrong, the Sirens will howl for my head.
So, it is with this thought that I share the following: I was shopping for cards for my wife for Mother’s Day, when my friend Virginia sidled up to my cart. After we greeted each other warmly, she looked at the cards (plural) in my hand and started on a diatribe that I wouldn’t have expected coming from her. […]