You don’t swear.
Apparently it’s unbecoming of a lady.
So when on the odd occasion you do blaspheme, we know it’s serious.
It really must be serious,
For Mums don’t swear. Or at least, we’re not supposed to. And certainly not in public. So that would explain why my propensity towards off-loading shit in a most foul-mouthed and profane manner is not something for which you take the credit. Bloody hell.
But Thank Goodness this isn’t all about me.
This is about good old you [“old” being just an ounce relevant here]. It’s about my gorgeously glamorous, super-skypeing, cyber-gran of a 65 year old Mum
Whose fridge is always full.
Apparently this is a sine qua non of the quintessential Jewish Mum.
So when it comes to my refrigerator, well let’s just say, there’s plenty of room for improvement. Last week’s crusty bolognese, an array of different cheese on legs and bottles upon bottles of full-fat baby milk is pretty much to be expected. So that would explain why my starving spouse thanks the Lord as you throw food at us at any given opportunity. Ladies-who-lunch left-overs, dinner-party doggy-bags & help-the-aged meals-on-wheels he will gladly accept. Feeding the children! Feeding him! Feeding us all
As you dish out
Love, knowledge, wisdom and advice amid ladels of chicken soup and lashings of chopped liver.
As that’s what Mums do. Or at least, you do. Have done, still do and always will do.
And you always know what’s best for us.
Apparently it’s a mother’s intuition.
So when on the rare occasion you’re undecided, we know it’s dire.
It really must be dire
For Mums always know what to do. Or at least, we’re supposed to. Hence why we torment you with our agonising ailments, debilitating dilemmas and wardrobe woes. Day in. Day out. Via SMS or Whatsapp. Telephone or Skype. In person or 10,000 miles away. Is it any wonder that sometimes, just sometimes, you need a day off?
But Mums don’t have days off.
Apparently it comes with the territory. So days off become hours off, become minutes off, become seconds off and you’re back again.
And that’s why when faced with the challenge of how to mark your 65th birthday, it wasn’t difficult to give something back. This time, not with flowers that will wilt or perfume that will fade. But with words.
With 65 reasons [to name just a few] why we love you.
Mum.
