Mother's Day Out

Just a quick whine before the main course. This will only take a minute, and believe me, it hurts you more than it hurts me.Trust me on this - I'm a mother.
We just finished celebrating Teacher Appreciation Week. Now here comes Mothers' Day. Teachers get a week, mothers get a day. What gives? They must have a better union. Maybe their lobbyists are better connected. Objection! To be a teacher, you have to be certified. But to be a mother, you have to be certifiable. And if you weren't certifiable before becoming a mother, you certainly are afterward. Here's proof-

Last night I went to a unique celebration. If you remember from my last post, I had been invited to a night celebrating single moms. One guy, a single guy, was sponsoring the event. Quite the guy, actually, and quite the night. We all sat around in big comfy white couches, sipping drinks and dipping strawberries in chocolate fondue. Our host had bought us roses, teddy bears, and chocolate. "How adorable," I murmured. "Where the hell is my drink?"

Did I mention there was a huge white bed next to the couches? Tee, hee, hee. Apparently the place was remodelling and the bed just happened to be there. Oopsie. "How silly!," I giggled as I set my purse taser to 'stun.'

We were also sitting right next to the bar stockroom. Every once in a while the bartender would swoop in, and we'd glimpse walls of Jack Daniels, Skye Vodka, and heavenly bottles of primo tequila. We teased the bartender about leaving his stash unlocked with dangerous minions lurking about. "Don't be silly," he said, "I trust you!"

I sensed we were being written off as harmless. Oopsie. We were too old, too 'motherly', too quaint to be dangerous? I sensed the rest of my group was feeling the same. (Except for the single guy who sponsored this shindig. By this time, he was cowering in the corner, rocking and babbling.)

Since we were all mothers, and all restless, we immediately recognized a young, cute man who needed to be taught a lesson. When his back was turned, my friend swiped the lock off the door. She went over to lecture him about leaving such a lovely collection of beverages unlocked. As she distracted him, I slipped into the storeroom and closed the door.

Soon I heard voices - the young bartender was approaching my storeroom (yes, mine!). He was casually scolding my friend for taking the lock. He slid the door open. I grabbed him about the neck and dragged him into the storeroom. He shrieked. Yes, shrieked. Visions of Mrs. Robinson danced in his head.

As for the nice guy who set up this whole evening, we were too much for him. Hopefully he'll be out of therapy in time to pay for next year's fete. Amazons? Yes. Amazing? That, too. Happy Mothers' Day.