For The Sweet Mother In My Life On This Joyous and Momentous Mother’s Day

Dear cherished lovely Lady of whose value the world cannot esteem or estimate for you are truly beyond being some mundane mathematical equation (such as 2+2=4)  but rather are more like an esoteric mathematical investigation that promises to carry on into oblivion (like Fermat’s Last Theorem, only that was solved after 300 years so maybe more like the Navier-Stokes Equation(s)),

I am glad for another Mother’s Day to be  upon us. It forces me, yet again,  to pause as I consider this stupendous day that annually commemorates your impact on my life as well as the life of others. Not that I mind taking a break of thinking about me .  You, my  dear, are such a prized treasure of great worth that the word that comes to mind is…overpriced? No, that’s not it. You know how bad with words I am. So funny.  I do have an equation I’m working on to determine your value. Basically the way it works is I subtract a little of my worth (just a bit) and viola – there you go! The problem is I can’t seem to figure out a precise value to myself since I’m so unique and precious. (Sigh) It is so hard not to talk about me, but back to you. I want to linger on that word “impact” for once second. Impact does not equate to bruising. No more – please.  Just try to take a break today; after all, it is Mother’s Day. You need to give your five favorite knuckles a rest.

I’m so glad to be celebrating your day today. It’s not as though the rest of the year isn’t dedicated to you. What’s that? Oh, right. The rest of the year IS  dedicated to you. Why am I even bothering with this crummy letter?  You’re the lucky one. Consider the evidence. (Ahem, over hear…a little farther…there! Stop.) Me – I’m talking about me.  I am the bomb. It is so hard being this good. Now that I have your attention let me tell you – Not sure how I stay humble. Did I tell you the Social Security Office contacted me to change my first name legally to Bomb kinda like what Miley Cyrus did or how all tissue paper is now called Kleenex. When being the bomb is so synonymous with your entire existence it is hard to understand why it took Social Security so long to request a hearing from my honorable presence. They even passed a law for when I go out into public. Notice how it is  against the law to proclaim my entering any location by exclaiming “Bomb!” No one wants a stampede of pandemonium as the common people push each other aside to rub shoulders with me or wipe the sweat off my brow or get a signature on a Michael Jordan Jersey (cause I’m the best – that’s why). To the Bourgeoisie, I’m here for you…and you…and you (Yes, I’m actually pointing to my imaginary fans). I love you all. You all have been so great! (Blowing kisses).

The more I think about myself the more I realize how lucky you are this mothers day.  In fact, I am such a blessing I HAVE TO broaden the scope of this lllooovvveee  letter. I’m so good, and there is too much goodness here for any  one person  so clearly my adoration is too much for one person to handle. My care and sensitivity for you prevents me from allowing the radiance of my love for you to overwhelm you or you will  lose yourself in me. The only way to prevent this danger  is for me to share me. It is the hard, but sacrificial thing.  So to all the lovely ladies in my life…What?!? I was thinking of my mother and OUR children. How could …never mind.  Just more proof that all you ladies are so lucky to have me in your life. Yes, my dear, you did well.

Now, a prize like myself has a myriad of ways to communicate my appreciation, love and affection for a precious jewel like you but there is no better present than myself. So I’ve determined this Mother’s Day we are going to celebrate your special day with a theme that constantly reminds you of me. Just think “the bomb.” I think I’ll start in the kitchen…

You are welcome to have married me my dear,

The Bomb

P.S. I’ve left a map at the bottom of the sink for you. With luck you will find your way out.


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