Being now a mum myself I have begun to appreciate the true nature of everything my mother is.
For mothers day several years ago, I made a simple book into a work of art.
I opened it at random and fixed the book as it lay. Then I sprayed it gold and placed a tassel in the spine.
On one side I put a photo and the other a personalised version of this prose, that I had read in my grandmother-in-laws regional paper (I hadn’t saved the cutting from the paper so had to contact them and request it by name of article. Someone remembered it and posted a copy out!) …..
My Mean Mother (as published in the Hauraki Herald, Saturday August 5 1995).
I had the meanest mother in the world. While other kids had lollies for breakfast, I had to eat cereal, egg and toast. While other kids had cans of drinks and lollies for lunch I had to have a sandwich.
As you can guess, my dinner was different from other kids’ too – as well as the food, we had to eat it at a table and not in front of television.
My mother also insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on a chain gang or something, she had to know who our friends were, where we were going, and she even told us what time we had to be home.
I am ashamed to admit it, but my mother actually had the nerve to break child labour laws. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make our beds and even learn how to cook.
That woman must have stayed awake at nights just thinking up things for us kids to do. She always insisted that we tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
By the time we were teenagers, our whole life became even more unbearable. No tooting the car horn for the girls in our family to come running. she embarrassed us by insisting that the boys come to the door to get us. I forgot to mention that most of our friends were allowed to date at the mature age of 12 and 13. Our old fashioned mother refused to let us date before we were at least 16. She raised a bunch of squares.
None of us kids were ever arrested for shoplifting or busted for dope. And who do we have to thank for this? You’re right – our mean mother.
Every day we hear cried from both our people and politicians about what our country really needs, and what it is, is more mean mothers like ours. – Anne Barker, Thames.
It now sits complete with stand on my mum’s piano, where it hasn’t gathered dust!
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