Mom’s A Tall Order
When the Good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of overtime when the
angel appeared and said ”You’re doing a little of fifiddling around on this one.”
And the Lord said”Have you read the specs on this order?”
She has to be completely washable, but not plastic;
Run on black coffffee and leftovers;
Have a lap that disappears when she stands up;
A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointing love affffair;
And six pairs of hands.
ThThe angel shook her head slowly and said “six pairs of hands ... no way.”
“It’s not the hand that are causing me problems,” says the Lord. “It’s the three pairs of eyes
that mothers have to have.”
“ThThat’s on the standard model?” asked the angel.
ThThe Lord nodded. “One pair that sees through closed doors when she ask, ‘what are you kids
doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees
what she shouldn’t but what she has to know, and of course, the ones here in front that can
look at a child when he goes up and says, ‘I understand and I love you’ without so much as
uttering a word.
“Lord” said the angel, touching his sleeve gently, “come to bed. Tomorrow...”
“I can’t” says the Lord, “I’m close to creating something so close to Myself. Already I have one
who heals herself when she is sick. Can feed a family of six one one pound of hamburger...
And get a nine-year-old to stand under a shower.”
ThThe angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s so soft,” she sighed.
“But tough!” said the Lord excitedly. “You cannot imagine what this mother can do or
endure.”
“Can it think?”
“Not only think, but it can reason and compromise,” said the Creator.
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her fifingers across the cheek. “ThThere’s a leak,” she
pronounced. “I told you we were trying to put too much into this model.”
“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord, “it’s a tear.”
“What’s it for?”
“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride.”
“You’re a genius,” said the angel.
ThThe Lord looked somber. “I didn’t put it there.”
Erma Bombeck