My Mother taught me about ANTICIPATION:
"Just wait until your father gets home."
My Mother taught me about RECEIVING:
"You are going to get it when we get home!"
My Mother taught me to MEET A CHALLENGE:
"What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you...Don't talk back to me!"
My Mother taught me LOGIC:
"Because I said so, that's why."
&
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."
My Mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE:
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."
My Mother taught me to THINK AHEAD:
"If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a good job."
My Mother taught me ESP:
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you're cold?"
My Mother taught me HUMOR:
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."
My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT:
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."
My Mother taught me about SEX:
"How do you think you got here?"
My Mother taught me about GENETICS:
"You're just like your father."
My Mother taught me about my ROOTS:
"Do you think you were born in a barn?"
My Mother taught me about WISDOM OF AGE:
"When you get to be my age, you will understand."
My Mother taught me about JUSTICE:
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you. Then you'll see what it's like."
My mother taught me RELIGION:
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."
My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL:
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"
My mother taught me FORESIGHT:
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."
My mother taught me IRONY:
"Keep crying and I'll *give* you something to cry about."
My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS:
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper!"
My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM:
"Will you *look* at the dirt on the back of your neck!"
My mother taught me about STAMINA:
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is finished."
My mother taught me about WEATHER:
"It looks as if a tornado swept through your room."
My mother taught me how to solve PHYSICS PROBLEMS:
"If I yelled because I saw a meteor coming toward you, would you listen then?"
My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY:
"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times: Don't Exaggerate!!!"
My mother taught me THE CIRCLE OF LIFE:
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."
My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION:
"Stop acting like your father!"
My mother taught me about ENVY:
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do!"
--Selected from Mikey's Funnies.
* * * * * * *
Thanks for the cybersalt award, Pastor Tim . . . 
. . . Visit Pastor Tim's great CleanLaugh site!
* * * * * * *
"For All Mothers"
Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their
own actions?
Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached spectators in
the lives of their children and shrug, "It's their
life," and feel nothing?
When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for
doctors to put a few stitches in my son's head. I asked, "When do you stop
worrying?" The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident stage, " My
mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.
When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and
heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, and
was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a
teacher said, "Don't worry, they all go through this stage and then you can
sit back, relax and enjoy them." My mother just smiled faintly and said
nothing.
When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to
ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend
said, "They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry in a few years, you
can stop worrying. They'll be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and
said nothing.
By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was still
worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle.
There was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and
said nothing.
I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their
frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments. My friends
said that when my kids got married I could stop worrying and lead my own
life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother's wan smile
and her occasional, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute
you get home. Are you depressed about something?"
Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern
for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the
trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or
is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?
One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, "Where
were you? I've been calling for 3 days, and no one
answered. I was worried." I smiled a wan smile. The torch has been passed.
--Author unknown.
