Mother’s Day, and more retail-industry humour

Mother’s Day, and more retail-industry humour

Am I just dreaming, or is something really jumping on my head as I lie in my bed?  No, I’m not dreaming.  There really is something – or someone – jumping on my head.

I sleepily gaze at my alarm clock, its digital face smugly informing me that it’s 06:09 this Sunday morning.  This Sunday morning being Mothering Sunday.

I gaze up at my 2-year old, who is delighted to see me, and greets me with a dribbly kiss and a, “hello mummy!”.

I’m equally delighted to see his face, although I could quite happily have lay in my bed for a couple more hours.  Particularly after the ‘disagreement’ I had with the hubby last night over our plans for the day.

Yep, the last disagreement we had was over where to spend Christmas.  We’ve had two months to get over the entire debacle – juggling the festive season between my parents and his parents while attempting to make it magical for our toddler.

We ended up bordering on alcoholism throughout the season, which only fuelled the seething undertones of resentment over each hour we spent in a house we respectively didn’t wish to be in.

Why, oh why, didn’t we just agree to do our own thing and invite everyone to come to us?

Two months on, and no lessons have been learnt.  Mid-week, hubby suggested we head over to see his mother for Mother’s Day.  My immediate – and possibly selfish – reaction was, ‘what about my mother.  And what about me?!’

After all, I have a mum too, and I am a mum.  What about my special day?  I swept his plans under the carpet of a dismissive comment in the hope that he’d drop those plans and instead shower me with flowers, chocolate, breakfast in bed and anything else he cared to gift me with.

Until last night, when he re-visited that conversation with me, and I suddenly lost the plot in a haze of disappointment and feelings of neglect as the mother of his child.

The thing is, I’m not neglected or under-appreciated.  Hubby and I both work hard each and every day.  There is nothing that I want for.  Yet, this ‘special day’ – Mother’s Day – has been approaching and wreaking havoc on my married life.

Is this some joke that the retail industry decided to play on us some years ago?  Did all of the bigwigs in the big retail corporations collectively decide that we simply must mark each and every historical, traditional day in the calendar, with costly commemorations?

That we must spend our hard-earned cash on cards and gifts.  That we should do something special, something extraordinary.  And that if we do not, we either do not love our loved-ones enough, or we are somehow dead inside.

Well, to hell with that.  This joke isn’t funny.  I made the decision to marry my husband all on my own, without the help of the retail bigwigs, and I’m sure as hell not going to let them into my marriage now!

I turn to my sleepy husband, lying next to me and tell him, “I’m looking forward to seeing your mum today.”

I can’t wait for Easter…

*Disclaimer: This was a fictional story*

Parents of two amazing teens, entrepreneurs and creators of Eddie Catz. Trying to juggle parenthood and work and be sufficiently cool not to be "de-friended" by our kids on social media. Can mostly be found at Eddie Catz HQ. Side jobs include delivering the bouncy castle, fetching helium cannisters, facepainting, toilet unblocking and lightbulb changing.

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