Okay, you might be overstating it Hazel
Whoa, Whoa WHOA there. The WORST mom? Seriously? WORST? I mean I’m aware there are better mothers. My mom for instance who raised me on granola and carob. Mother Theresa comes to mind. So yeah, I didn’t expect to find a note that said, “You are the BEST mom” in my nightstand drawer, even though I hear moms get these all the time from their besotted children. But come on. Worst? That’s a little bit of an exaggeration isn’t it? I especially like that she wrote it on hotel stationary, from a trip I took with Arun. The underlying message? Just a reminder, while you’re swanning about in Calistoga? You’re a shit mom.
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Ha! I’ve been told that more than once.
And may I say I was also raised on granola and carob, and turkey hot dogs. My easter basket? Carob and easter eggs dyed with beet juice (a sad, light pink). Sugar was banned from my house for years.
I guess we’ll have to compare notes and figure out which of us is really the worst. Then we can tell our children the news. Someone is going to be disappointed.
Oh Jesus. Beet dye? How did she have the energy? You know what years of carob did to me? It turned me into the mom who gives out full sized candy bars at Halloween.
Join the club. I was told “it’s because you’re a foreigner” by that sniveling little Yank whose name I won’t mention.