Only eight more days until The City Mother is released! In the meantime, here's a blog post from March 2015, when I was starting to write the humor pieces that would eventually lead to a nationally-published column. This is one of my favorites from that era:
Is it just me, or is the parade of animal mothers getting ridiculous?
First there was the Tiger Mother. Then the Dolphin Mother. And lately, the Elephant Mother.
As anyone can play this game -- with or without a publishing contract -- I have a few more moms to add to the menagerie:
The Turtle Mother. Everything seems to be going fine until one day, for no apparent reason, this mother digs a deep hole, deposits her kids in it, and scuttles away without a backward glance. When picked up, some months later, on charges of child endangerment, she turns an ancient yellow eye on the mugshot camera and, for the next one hundred years, refuses to explain her actions.
The Anteater Mother. An ungainly, hairy beast who dwells in a dark cave, this mother is characterized by her terse interactions with her kids. E.g.,
Monday:
"What's for dinner?"
"Ants."
Tuesday:
"What's for dinner?"
"Ants."
Wednesday:
"What's for dinner?"
"Ants."
Thursday:
"Hey! That's not funny. Now settle down and eat your ants."
The Octopus Mother. Often mistaken for a minor Hindu goddess, this mother is amazing. She can do everything for everyone at once, has two hearts, and requires little in the way of food or stimulation. After about six months, she dies and is absorbed without a trace into the ocean floor.
The Old Woman Mother. The Old Woman Mother lives in a shoe. She has so many children, she doesn't know what to do. Eventually, tired of her inept management of the household, the older children band together and depose her, in a coup.
The Facebook Mother. This mother is the happiest person in the world and spends all her time at the pumpkin patch!
The Guinevere Mother. This mother has actually forgotten she has children, for she believes she is the beautiful heroine of a love triangle between the King (her husband), the World's Greatest Knight (her true love), and herself, in a story played out on the glittering stage of Camelot, of which she is Queen. Eventually this mother will attend a parent-teacher conference or receive her FICO credit report. Then she will be like: "Wait. What? . . . I really need to get my head back in the game."
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