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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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February
/ March 2007 Contest Results |
Cut Mom
(Me) A Friggin' Break
By Kathleen M. Wooton,
New Jersey
On the second Sunday of May, children from all over the mighty U. S. of
A. honor Mom with gifts of cards, flowers, and meals not prepared by
Mom’s fair hands. Many mothers really enjoy such niceties. They live for
such things. I’m not one of them. I’m far too cynical to fall for such
overt sentimentality. Mother’s Day is a holiday conceived by retailers
to boost sales of cards and sub-par merchandise that Moms are just too
polite to openly mock. Retailers make out like bandits on the “it’s the
thought that counts” mindset. What a crock.
I want a holiday that benefits me directly. A holiday that cannot be
commercialized, watered down, or sentimentalized by some schmaltzy
Hallmark card (or worse, a Hallmark TV Special). A holiday that is all
about and for me, that benefits me and nobody else but me. A holiday
when my word is law and there is no back-sassing from hormonal teens or
kvetching from grouchy middle-aged husbands. I don’t think I’m alone on
this, either -- I’m sure there are plenty of mothers with similar family
dynamics that would applaud such a holiday.
Well, I’m here to propose a Very Special Holiday just for disgruntled
Wife-slash-Mothers such as myself. A special holiday like this deserves
an equally “special” name, so here it is :
Cut Mom (Me) a Friggin’ Break Day!
On this day, Mom is totally exempt from any and all calamities,
catastrophes, skirmishes, squabbles, foul tempers, evil humors, acts of
God, or any and all other unpleasantness that was not planned or
orchestrated by Mom for her own perverse enjoyment (dance, puppets,
dance). For example :
The dog has taken a dump on your bedroom floor and you’ve just stepped
in it and tracked it down a flight of stairs and into the kitchen - Cut
Mom a Friggin’ Break and clean it up yourself.
Your sister has just called you “stupid head” for the eightieth time
today and you felt the only way to retaliate was to pour her nail polish
in her underwear drawer and “mix well”. So, now she’s flushed your
favorite toy car down the toilet and you now want me to kill your sister and
snake the toilet to retrieve the car? Cut Mom a Friggin’ Break and go
tell your Dad, I want no part of this!
The water for the spaghetti is boiling and you want your dinner now, so
you’ve sent the kids to pound on the bathroom door to tell me that it’s
boiling, while I’m in the midst of relieving myself, thank you very
much. Cut me a Friggin’ Break and start the damn spaghetti
yourself! I’m not rushing on your behalf.
The possibilities here are as endless as a Mom’s imagination. On “Cut
Mom (Me) a Friggin’ Break Day”, if it’s unpleasant and it’s not the
direct result of one of my machinations, the involved parties will just
have to work things out themselves. Now that’s my idea of a holiday!
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