“It just occurred to me that the majority of my diet is made up of food that my kid didn’t finish.”— Carrie Underwood
“I always say if you aren’t yelling at your kids, you’re not spending enough time with them.”— Reese Witherspoon
“I want my children to have all the things I couldn’t afford. Then I want to move in with them.”—Phyllis Diller
“The most remarkable thing about my mother is that for thirty years she served the family nothing but leftovers. The original meal has never been found.”—Calvin Trillin
“It’s not easy being a mom. If it were easy, fathers would do it.”—Betty White
“Why don’t kids understand that their nap is not for them but for us?”—Alyson Hannigan
“Becoming a mom to me means you have accepted that for the next 16 years of your life, you will have a sticky purse.”—Nia Vardalos
“My mother’s menu consisted of two choices: Take it or leave it.”—Buddy Hackett
“Parenting tip: maybe don’t leave Hungry Hungry Hippos on the floor of a dark room.”—Rachel Dratch
“A mother need only step into the shower to be instantly reassured she is indispensable to every member of her family.”—Lynne Williams
“My sister said once: ‘Anything I don’t want Mother to know, I don’t even think of, if she’s in the room.’ ”—Agatha Christie
We’ve saved the best for last:
When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of “overtime” when the angel appeared and said. “You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”
And God said, “Have you read the specs on this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 movable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointing love affair. And six pairs of hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands.... no way.”
“It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,” God remarked. “It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have.”
“That’s on the standard model?” Asked the angel. God nodded.
“One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you kids doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. ‘I understand and I love you’ without so much as uttering a word.”
“God,” said the angel touching his sleeve gently, “Get some rest tomorrow....”
“I can’t,” said God, “I’m so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower.”
The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.
“But tough!” said God excitedly. “You can’t imagine what this mother can do or endure.”
“Can it think?”
“Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.
“There’s a leak,” she pronounced. “I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model.”
“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord, “It’s a tear.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride.”
“You are a genius,” said the angel.
Somberly, God said, “I didn’t put it there.”
―Erma Bombeck, When God Created Mothers
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