Victorian style card with purple and yellow flowers and an anchor with the text Dear Mother Sorry I was such an asshole

Sorry I was such an asshole, Mom.

My son just asked me if pooping was a verb.

Admit it. You were probably pretty annoying at some point in your life. You definitely made faces at your siblings when your mom asked you to stop, you snuck extra treats from the kitchen when she wasn't looking, at some point during your teenage years you likely told her to not come near you in public.

These are my partial confessions of my asshole childhood behavior. This is not a complete list of all the things I did. 

When I was 6 we travelled across the country to move from the East coast to the West coast. I was notorious for getting motion sickness all the time (still do) so it was no surprise when I asked my dad to pull the car over so I could throw up. We were in the middle of nowhere so my mom got out with me so she could pee. We walked behind a bush and my father and brother waited in the car. I always got so upset when I had to throw up so I was holding onto my mother when I barfed and got it all over her. She was mid-pee and jumped and got pee all over me which made me cry even more. When we finally emerged from the bushes we were both covered in pee and barf and crying and that's why no amount of flowers or gift cards to chipotle will ever be enough to say thank you to my mother.

I also used to love to memorize jingles from commercials and sing them in the car which is literally the definition of asshole. No one wants to hear commercial jingles ever and my only reason for memorizing and performing those particular songs was because I knew I would piss off everyone around me and that felt so powerful. I was a monster.

When I was in middle school I was very boy crazy and I thought a great afternoon activity would be to look up all the boys I had crushes on in the phone book (this was pre insta….which btw 12 year old me would have been SO CREEPY if I had had access to that kind of technology). I then cut out my crushes names/phone numbers/addresses out of the phone book and taped them into my scrapbook. Back when you had to look up people’s numbers in order to call them, the phone book was kind of vital but that thought didn’t cross my mind as I cut up pages and pages of the phone book leaving it a shredded mess. I was however smart enough to see that my mom would be mad about this so I threw it away and pretended I had no idea where the phone book ended up. *Side bar on the scrap book…I nicknamed all of my crushes and would put anything remotely associated with them in the book. One boy I called Cookie Monster because he got really excited about some cookies at lunch one day. From that point on if I saw anything with a Cookie Monster on it it would go in the scrap book. I also had photos of said boys that I secretly took when they weren’t looking because again..pre instagram you couldn’t just pull up a photo of someone whenever you wanted and clearly I saw this as a problem that only pictures of the back of someone’s head could solve. Looking back at said scrap book I’m fairly certain I should have been arrested for stalking.

All of this to say your Mother not only brought you into this world but she's also had to deal with your insane bullshit so you should probably say thanks on more days than just Mother's Day. Maybe Mother's Day should be like every Tuesday or something? Check out all our goodies for Mom!


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