I made her wait for two weeks past her due date. During a muggy New Jersey summer.

How long did you make your mom miserable before you decided to give her a break and get born already? (I'm sure your mom would answer "too damn long.")

I know I talk about my parents relatively frequently on le blog, but oddly enough, I don't exactly want to dig up anything on Mom for this post before Mother's Day weekend. I guess it's because she's already the star of this month's Gypsy Bonfire. You'd think I would be filling your eyeballs for pages, since I find myself reading Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, following up Little Altars Everywhere.

(What can I say? There's a reason why the first book got made into a sappy, incompletely realized movie.)

So instead, I'll leave you with an excerpt of an essay by Garrison Keillor I found on Salon.com:

Like an old lioness, she'll come running even if you're 2,000 miles away.

That is why you pay homage to the old lady on Mother's Day. You entered this cold world causing her more pain than she thought possible and now she won't ever give up on you.

I thought this was fairly appropriate because I'll be helping someone new with the "you entered this world" part later this year. I'm preggers, people! But I'm sure the 33% added crankiness has been completely unnoticeable.