WTM's Mother's Day Observations - The Whale Tail Is NOT WT! It's Just Plain Trashy!
Ah, Mother's Day. The chance to relax without guilt. Blog, uninterrupted by the little cherubs, whining for their turn (only one computer in our house, besides my hubby's laptop for work...). The opportunity to do whatever it is that you want to do because it is the one day out of 365 that you are allowed to choose how you want to spend your time and money. Sounds ideal, doesn't it? Would that it were true... :) Each year on Mother's Day, I reflect on my Mother's Days from the past. Like the Queen of WT, I, too, lost my mother way too young. She was 62, and I was only 27 at the time. Our first daughter was born just two weeks before she died. In fact, not to be too maudlin here, but I actually had to be induced into labor because my mother was dying, and we needed to fly home to get there before she passed. Yeah, I know. That's a tearjerker. So, just like the Queen, I have mixed emotions on Mother's Day. In church this morning, a wave of sadness came over me so strongly, it nearly knocked me off my feet. Tears in my eyes, I was contemplating excusing myself to the ladies room to avoid the embarrassment of crying for no apparent reason. And then, it happened. The comic relief that I so sorely needed. I was looking down, willing the tears to go away. Through the blur of the tears, what did I see but the distinctly rounded cheeks of the young lady in front of us. By "cheeks", you understand, I mean butt cheeks. OMG. In church. OK, so the point here is that she had on a pair of gauchos (or split skirt or whatever you want to call it...) and had her thong on underneath. Naturally, since the thong went straight up her butt, the clingy knit fabric proceeded to do likewise, and there she was, standing in Mass, with her cheeks protruding like two ripe melons on either side of her proverbial crack. You could even see the outline of the whale tail through the filmy knit fabric. Do you know about the whale tail phenomena? I only recently learned about it. In case you, too, need enlightening, here's how www.urbandictionary.com defines it. "The whale tail is the shape formed when a thong or g-string rides up high over a woman's trousers." OK, so in this case, the thong wasn't sticking out of her clothes, at least. But the fact that you could make it out through her clothes, coupled with the fact that her butt cheeks were sticking out all over the place with nothing between them and the fabric of the gauchos was just so GROSS! Her mom must have been SO PROUD! At the risk of sounding like a fuddy duddy to you younger WTM's, I'm sorry, but...the whale tail is NOT WT. It's just plain trashy. Any questions? Still blinking back the tears, I had to stifle a major GUFFAW! Talk about the emotional roller coaster. It reminded me of pregnancy (alternating between laughter and tears with absolutely no warning whatsoever). So, that started my day in a weird sort of way. For a while, it seemed that our Mother's Day "tradition" was going to be that Dad was out of town. At one point, when our kids were still awfully little, my big strong man was gone three consecutive years. Business two years in a row, followed directly by his brother's 40th birthday the year after that. Needless to say, he was in the doghouse for this. On one such occasion, when our youngest daughter was just a toddler, I woke at 6:45 am to find a camouflaged version of her peering at my bedside (eerie experience if you haven't yet been down this road...). Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I asked her what on earth she had all over her face (and hands, chest, nightgown, etc.), to which she replied, "I squeezed it!" Turns out she had climbed on top of a chair, on top of the desk in the kitchen, and reached the very top shelf of the cabinet to get to the blue FOOD COLORING. Then, my little angel took it to her room where she proceeded to SQUEEZE it all over her carpet. Ah, those were the days. Then, there was the year, I came home from my exercise class on the Saturday of Mother's Day weekend, knowing that my husband was planning something out of the ordinary - some sort of MD surprise, if you will. You know, to atone for all those times in the past when he was OOT. My mind was reeling. What could it be? A day of beauty of some sort? Massage? Spa? Pedicure? Manicure? All of the above? Nope! I walked in the door, spent from my workout, sweat still dripping from my forehead. Holding four tickets up in the air, he and the kids cried out, "Surprise! We're ready to go to the amusement park whenever you are!" Uh huh. The amusement park. You know. Where you relax with the 10,000 other people and their screaming children. Sounds divine, honey! Yes, Mother's Day. The day that is like no other. The day where the family honors the one who does so much for them on a daily basis. We do have a couple of steadfast traditions, though. We go to a big brunch, with extended family. This I truly do enjoy. And a few years ago, I became one of the coolest moms ever by declaring that on Mother's Day each year, we'd have dessert for dinner - i.e. Coldstone Creamery or some such fair. Never mind that when dinnertime rolls around, we are still full from brunch. We manage to scarf down some tantalizing sweet treat anyway. After all, it's tradition!