Mothers look different from other women. Their hair isn’t always done in the latest style, and sometimes, it isn’t done at all.
A mother is a woman who can bake a cake with six other hands helping her and still have it turn out fine.
A mother’s shoulders sometimes smells of sour milk, and if you are very observant, you’ll notice safety pin holes in her clothes — even her Sunday best.
Mother’s frequently have runs in their stockings, likely as not, Junior didn’t park his trike off the sidewalk.
A mother is different. She likes chicken wings and backs and the hamburger that is slightl y burned — things the kids and Daddy don’t care for. She never takes the last chop on the plate, and she always saves the candy from the tray at the club to bring home to the children.
A mother may not have ulcers, but she has versatile tears. They show anger, weariness, hurt or happiness. Once, when Daddy forgot an anniversary, Mother cried. One Saturday, he brought home some chocolates when it wasn’t even her birthday or anything, and she cried then, too.
A mother is someone who can repair the kitchen sink with only her hands — after Daddy spent alot of time trying with tools and plenty of cuss words.
When a mother dies, she must face Him with her record of accomplishments. If she’s done a good job of caring for her children, she’ll get the most sought-after position in heaven, that of rocking baby angels on soft white clouds and wiping their celestial tears with the corner of her apron.
(c) 1997 LadyJ All Rights Reserved