Friday, August 20, 2010

Mother's Little Helper

They say that soldiers who lose limbs in battle sometimes suffer from a phantom limb syndrome wherein they feel sensations in the missing arm or leg.
I find that after I take my sunglasses off my head I still think they are up there and not only that - I reach for them constantly even though I know that they are not there. I call it phantom shades syndrome. I know it's not the same thing but it's all I got.
And while we're on the subject of subjects that aren't very funny but let's have a go at them anyway, one of the Google headlines this week was "what makes mothers kill their children?" Obviously it was in response to the tragedy in South Carolina but honestly - the question seems a bit rhetorical. Have you been with a brood of kids lately? Have you seen exhausted mothers with out of control children acting out in supermarkets, at the playground, or in the library? Children are naturally self centered, demanding little individuals who can be difficult to be around.
None of which justifies killing your offspring but honestly it's not hard to see where a depressed mother without a good support system might harbor the thought.
And now that I'm on a roll, here's another observation. This one concerning an interesting juxtaposition of merchandise in a Main Street shop. First there was a rack of body shaping slips with the brand name Yummy Tummy. The purpose of this garment may very well be to support those same harried moms so that in addition to being tired and unappreciated they don't have to add feeling like they have frumpy tummies to the list of disappointments that seem to have become the bulk of their everyday lives. On the other hand maybe it just serves to reinforce the unfair standards by which society rates mothers - they must have perfect children and retain their perfect figures as well.
Right next to the rack of women's undergarments was the Buddha Bowl, a shallow bowl which, correct me if I'm wrong, looks perfectly suitable for resting on ones "Buddha belly," most likely when one is traversing down the road to enlightenment by ensconcing themselves in couch cushions, snacking on chips and dips, and watching the big game. The question is - if the Buddha Bowl is on your belly - where is the remote?
This all leads me to draw the obvious conclusion (obvious at least to me) that while women have to have a yummy tummy at all costs, men get to let it all hang out and then perch a bowl of chili on top of it.
Another truth that might push the unstable mom over the edge

song: Mother's Little Helper • artist: the Rolling Stones

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