A Father's Day Card for Mother's Day

My beautiful, perfect son (she said, with tongue affixed firmly to cheek) will be 27 years old on his next birthday. He had the misfortune to be raised without one significant male in his life (again, tongue stuck to inside of cheek). The benefits of this are many; for starters, he's one of the few men I know who doesn't piss all over the damned toilet (and one of the many reasons why I love him so much!); he can COOK (and is a darned fine cook, too ... adventurous and creative!); he knows how to sort laundry correctly and actually folds his clothes before he puts them away; he is a very adept comparison shopper, and he has an ability to relate to women of any age.

He believes that being in a relationship doesn't mean dumping his domestic responsibilities on his partner, (I'd have to hurt him, and he's bigger than me), and isn't afraid to show his emotions. More reasons to love this guy.

Oh, did I mention he's straight, too? This is for those folks out there who swear that boys raised without a "father figure" turn out to be gay. Someone (a male) was totally convinced that I was raising a little fag, and that he needed someone to wrestle with and teach him how to swear (yup, those are the things I look for in a man, fer sure).


In fact, I wouldn't care if he'd turned out to be purple and multi-sexual, or bi-sexual, or asexual. He's exactly who he's supposed to be, and I love him. Period. I would have loved him anyway. Couldn't help it. Matter of fact, when someone asks me about my love life, I almost always say that the two longest loves of my life have been my son, and Vancouver Island.

I know parents think their own children are the cutest kids in the world. I happen to KNOW Eric was the cutest baby EVER. End of discussion.

So this year, Mr. Perfect Son admitted that he hadn't sent my mother's day card in time for me to receive it. Hmmmmmmm. Oh well, I can forgive him for that (this time).

When I came in the door after work, Dorne said there was mail for me. Ahhh, a nicely padded Canada Post envelope, with his return address on it. Cool.

Have you ever tried opening one of those things???? It reminds me of the time I tried to tear open placenta in order to rescue a new-born puppy who was suffocating. Can't be done with bare hands (especially when the hands and the placenta are very slippery!). These Canada Post envelopes are hard to open even with a knife. Anyway, calling on my superhuman strength (knitter's hands truly are strong), I put a gash in the envelope and pulled out the card and a really (really!) cool Herbie Hancock CD (listening to it as I type, matter of fact).

Outside of the card is a picture of a "father" handing a pink slip to his son. Son says "but you can't fire me, I'm your son!", and "father" says, "don't make this harder than it already is".

So, ok Eric, you missed out buying a Mother's Day card and had to buy a Father's Day card instead. That's ok, too (big grin here).

Inside reads: Happy Father's Day, Ma. (his writing)

Thanks for keeping me around (like I wouldn't???)

(his writing again): You've been both a dad and a mom. Maybe just once you should get a card recognizing you on this day. Thus, I'm late for mother's day and really early for father's day, which makes me not late.

Lots of Love,
Eric
(your son)
just in case of senility

I'll have you know senility is NOT the problem; it's simply that by the time a brain with an IQ of 140 reaches 50+ years of age, it has absorbed so much information that some of it has to fall out from time to time. That you are my son I will never, NEVER forget. That I love you so very much and am always so very proud of you, I will also never forget.

Here he is, a man comfortable with himself. Yes, he's applying make-up. Read on!

And how could anyone not love a guy who stays home (in an apartment he shared platonically with a woman) for his roommate's Mary Kay (or whatever) make-up party? His reasoning was simple; what self-respecting guy wouldn't want to be surrounded by a roomful of women?

I raised you up right, errrr ... correct(ly) (gad, how I hate bad grammar!). Thanks for the great card, honey, and for the gift of the music. I love you!