The Thanksgiving collection of grammar school artwork was
proudly presented to me by my children yesterday. Its contents
proved rather revealing. A recap:
Daniel: I am thankful for my life.
Jack: I am thankful for food and water. I am really thankful for
school. I am thankful for my awesome new couch. I am thankful for
my great friends. I am thankful for plants. I am thankful for the
air. But most of all, I am thankful for me.
Joey: I am thankful for dad.
Notice any glaring omissions?
Crestfallen, I began questioning my impact on these people with
whom I had invested so much time, love, and worry. When vegetation,
a clearance sectional, and my husband all rated while I didn't even
garner a single mention, I couldn't help but feel, well,
Not being one to beat around the bush, I took the issue up with
my sons. I started with Joey.
"So what's with you being thankful for daddy and not mommy,
"Um. The teacher said we could only pick one thing."
"And you selected daddy, huh?"
"Yeah, cuz daddy works so we can have food and a house and
"I see. What do you think mommy does?"
"Um. I don't know. But don't worry mommy, I still love you.
Daddy just gives us money. We need money so we don't get dead."
Abandoning my grim little capitalist, I next sidled up to
"So, Jack. PLANTS. You have plants on your thankful list and not
your mom? What's up with that?"
"Mom, I put plants on there because without them, there is no
life on Earth. And I wanted to keep you alive because I love you so
very much, mommy."
Jack then flashed a dimpled smile and skipped away. No doubt to
pursue his career as a used car salesman.
Undeterred, I went to find Daniel, but he was ready for me.
Or rather, he was already out the door and at his friend's house
before I could pull some major mother guilt.
While I might not make their lists this year, these boys who
provide so much fodder and laughter will always be tops on my
Even before the plants.
Happy Thanksgiving, all!
Marianne is mother of three sons and the wife of a southside Irish fireman. She has learned that sometimes you're just too dumb to know what makes you happy. She blogs regularly at We Band of Mothers (webandofmothers.com) and curses with even greater frequency. Her material is written for the imperfect, the imprudent, and the impatient mothers who know that all this stuff is really very funny if you just give it a minute.
See more of Marianne's stories here.
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