“My Mum is about five foot with her hair done. Without it she’s four foot 10”
Children can get away with literally ANYTHING on Mother’s Day because they’re small and cute. If a mother fails to be moved by the sight of a wobbly written card and daffodils filched from the next doors garden then she has a swinging brick where her heart should be, yes?
However, once we reach mid-teens and adulthood, the Mother’s Day game changes. A well thought out gift is like putting a pound in the slot machine and getting thirty back. The wrong gift, or worse, NOTHING and your mother will systematically break you down over the next twelve months AND FOREVER MORE!
I’m middle-aged and menopausal. My own mother went full psycho during her menopause so I know my shit and I’m willing to impart my knowledge on you readers. So here are my tips on what NOT to buy your middle-aged mother this Mother’s Day.
Cleaning Products/Household Shizz
This is the one of two days a year (the other being her birthday) where she endeavors to do sod all in the way of cooking or cleaning so if you stroll in with a new set of saucepans asking if she fancies ‘christening’ them, you may just end up in A&E with a head injury.
Nothing says ‘I can’t be arsed’ quite like a gift voucher.
Alcohol and hormone imbalance can quickly turn an amicable afternoon into plate hurling carnage. AVOID. AVOID. AVOID.
A woman’s body chemistry changes during the menopause so it’s best to stick with what you know works for her now. Also, don’t buy cheap version from the local market. You know, those that cost £2.99 and claim to smell like Chanel but actually smell like fox piss? You gets what you pays for and you’ll be paying for it for the forseeable in mental anguish.
Keep Fit DVDs
You’re telling her she’s fat.
You’re telling her she’s fat.
You’re making her fat.
You’re telling her she has the complexion of a prune. Yes, she uses this stuff by the pallet load but nobody is supposed to know!
By all means cook her a nice meal for Mother’s Day, just make sure it’s not Coq au Salmonella.
Candles intended to mask cat pee, fag smoke or last night’s haddock do not say ‘I love you, Mum’.
Unless she’s slap-bang in the throes of a particularly nasty mid-life crisis.. tiger print slipper boots (with pom-poms) are a NO. The other end of the scale are those royal blue/burgundy floral slippers favoured by the elderly and you may find yourself being assaulted with a size 4 slip-on if you’re not careful.
Might one suggest a nice pair of velour mules?
Mother’s Day Compilation CDs
Complied by morons, these CDs usually end up being flogged for 50p in charity shops.
They usually come with the obligatory Gary Barlow song and the rest are obviously chosen at random, possibly under the influence of alcohol.
For research purposes, I looked at the track listings for one such CD and aside Keating et al was Freda Payne’s Band of Gold (a song about being dumped) and Bridge Over Troubled Water which is enough to have your poor old dear reaching for the gin..
Or a noose.
When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
Then again, ANY mother who has spent the last eight hours fumigating her teenage son’s pit of a bedroom will probably be able to identify with these lyrics, so maybe there’s method in the madness?
Don’t buy it JUST because it says MUM on it. You’re not cute enough to get away with it anymore. Plus, you’re dealing with hormonal disturbance of MAJOR proportions, you know?
You HAVE been warned!
Of course, if your mother actually requests any of the above (aside salmonella) then yer off the ‘ook, as it were.
I’d still steer clear of alcohol though..
A Word of Caution About Cards
Mother’s Day cards are on the shelves from February. There is NO excuse for not getting her a card. Even if you plead poverty for a gift, everybody can afford a card, even if it’s a Tesco Value one..
I will tell you the story of a teenage boy who came back from staying at his mates house one Sunday to see a beautiful Mother’s Day card displayed on the mantel piece and his younger brother mouthing “You’re dead, Bruv” to him.
“SHIT!” he exclaimed. Then shot out of the house and round to the local Co-op where to his surprise, ALL the Mother’s Day cards had sold out..
So he improvised.