You probably owe your mother

11/1/2006


Today is Nov. 1, and a lot of great people share birthdays today. Born on exactly the same day, 60 plus years ago, were Alberta Premier and drinker Ralph Klein, as well as Hustler magazine and pornographer Larry Flynt—and my Mother.


No one can deny that King Ralph, and the uncrowned King of Smut, have accomplished a lot in life, but my Mom probably has them both beat.


For starters, I was overdue, which was a bold beginning for a baby that wasn’t even planned. That doesn’t mean I was unwanted, just unexpected; which can actually be a blessing, because we mistakes are off the hook for the rest of our lives.


I could drive a burning busload of kittens into a swimming pool and, when the police ask what on earth I was thinking, I can always say “Hey, go easy, man. I’m not even supposed to be here.”


When I was little, I remember Mom singing to me, tunes like “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and “Yankee Doodle” and songs by some fat guy named Elvis.


Later, she would make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and let me watch Sesame Street, back in the days before peanuts were evil and such a grave danger to all the good boys and girls.


Her grilled cheese were packed with so much cheese, back in the days before lactose was such a danger to all the boys and girls, that it would ooze down your hands and arms. That’s when I learned how hard it is to lick your elbows. Try it sometime.


She read me stories about the three bears, the cat in the hat, and how the circus would one day come to town and I could go with them. She even claimed to have written a letter of reference.


Mom also taught me to drive. Our 1976 Toyota Corona wagon was a piece of junk by that time, but it was the best piece of junk a kid could ask for, and that’s when I learned how easy it is to roll a car.


Today, I get to listen to my Mother talk about when she was young, back when it was a much simpler time, and the earth was still cooling and such.


Just recently, I heard about the time she and her crazy friend Wendy caught a bunch of snakes that were sunning themselves on a well, hid them in her basement in a wash tub, and they all got loose.


Mothers are also really good for passing along their favourite recipes, and the one I simply have to get next is the recipe for those chocolate oatmeal coconut cookies you don’t have to bake. Normal people call them macaroons, I think, but my brothers and I knew them simply as poo balls.


You never had to worry about the other kids wanting to trade you lunches, when they asked what you had, and you yelled back “Poo balls!”


So, the next time your mother has a birthday, try and remember all the stories, grilled cheese and driving lessons, and be thankful. You owe her a lot.