Here comes Mother’s Day, people. And even if you conveniently proclaim it a Hallmark Holiday and thus beneath you to celebrate, like certain highly-principled-around-this-topic husband-type people I could mention, but would never actually mention in this very public forum (his name’s Rob) (not really) (psych) (ROB THIS MEANS YOU) (no, no, his name isn’t Rob, but he knows who he is) (and “Rob”, I could use a massage), you love your mom, or your baby mama, or maybe you love them but don’t always like them, or maybe you don’t love OR like them, but look. Here’s what’s up. Moms work hard. Look at you, you’re a jerk. Your mom worked SO HARD on you. And that’s what your baby mama is doing too–sweatin’ it out. Motherhood’s not for sissies. You should be appreciating the foxy mamas in your life, and you should be letting them know it. BUT HOW.
You could do flowers and brunch, but honey, it’s been done. You could do a gift certificate, but yawn. You could make her some window boxes and plant them with geraniums, and actually, that would be lovely, you should do that.
But just in case that doesn’t appeal, you know what you should REALLY do for the mom(s) in your life? Take ’em to CLAW’s your mom on Mother’s Day Eve. Bring lots of singles, let Mom bet on the wrasslin’, buy her a brewski and a plate of french fries, HELL YOU MIGHT EVEN SPRING FOR A CLAW TEE SHIRT. Again, look at yourself. You’re a douchenozzle. Redemption is the aim. For once in your miserable life, do something for Mom she’s really going to enjoy. I mean, check out this line-up of wrestlers! AMAZE! See you and her at the Blue Moon Diner at 8 pm on May 10. Wrists up!!!