The following was inspired by the hours spent in front of the Mother’s Day greeting cards, trying to find that perfect sentiment for the mothers in our lives.  Despite the thousand of cards available for a wide variety of “moms”, there was one card type that was clearly missing.  So I wrote it myself.  This goes out to all the men who made us (literally) the mothers we are today.
A Poem to My Husband on Mother’s Day
I do not need
Fancy baubles
Or fresh cut flowers
Or breakfast in bed in the late morning hours
You do not need to spend time
Or money
On Hallmark cards that suggest
That I “matter” or am “deeply loved”
You know I’m not that kind.
Deep down you know
That there is only one thing I need
On my special day.
All I want
Is for everything to be exactly the way I want it to be.
Whatever that is.
And it’s never the same thing two years in a row.
And I don’t want to have to explain it.
I just want you to read my mind.
Figure it out.
And execute on my unspoken vision.
Some years that means that I want to eat dinner at 5:30 p.m.
Not 6:15
Other years I want to play my music on the stereo
Without anyone giving me a look like their ears are bleeding.
And it always and forever means not to ask me if you can go work out
At any point during the day.
If you only knew how much
Salmon is not a substitute for soft shell crabs
Then our love would be invincible.
But alas, we all must learn
That Hill’s Seafood sells out early on this sacred day
A lesson we won’t soon forget.
Never try to deviate from
The Plan.
And tho’ our sons are growing taller by the hour
I still hold you completely responsible
For their behavior on this day.
Should they quarrel or gripe
Or complain incessantly that the sun is in their eyes
When I am trying to take a family picture
I will blame you.
My love.
Because whatever errs on this day
Is entirely your fault.
Dear one.
That is your gift to me.
Words cannot express
My gratitude
For trying to read my mind
And control the entire Universe
Each May
Failing often
Yet attempting once again
To get it perfect.
Whatever perfect might be.
For me.
On Mother’s Day.
Even though I am not your mother.
All my love,
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