I lost it an hour or so ago, after the sixth or seventh “Moms are awesome!” post featuring some Mother’s Day Twitter hashtag or other, dispatched from a feed I quickly unfollowed.
If that’s not enough for you, Google Susan Smith, Andrea Yates, Clarnell Kemper, Joan Crawford.
For every mother as goddawful as that, there are probably ten or twenty who just beat the shit out of their children, sordidly and below the criminal radar.
For every one of those mothers, there’s probably hundreds who scream, manipulate, and harass their young into mental hospitals. I know at least one of those kids.
For every one of those, there’s likely thousands who find five ways a day to gouge and savage their children short of actually consigning them to a back ward. Because, you know, mothers are always right and becoming a mother — think about it, it’s a brutal devastation of the human body, an error of evolution which brought us to the upright posture but left us with a pelvis that can barely sustain the excretion of a half-formed progeny — entitles them to treat their children any way they want. Right?
But of course, on the second Sunday in May, we all pretend Mommy is a national hero. How else would florists make a living?
Happy Hallmark Holiday.