Sometimes I cannot help thinking the British are just ornery. They drive on the wrong side of the road, they call fries chips then chips crisps and refuse to accept the existence of iced tea. But all these crimes pale in significance to Mothering Sunday.
In England Mothering Sunday is always observed on the fourth Sunday of Lent. In most ways it resembles American Mother’s Day: you are expected to deliver flowers/chocolate and a homemade card with a sloppy hand print to the woman who made you possible. One problem: IT’S IN THE WRONG BLOODY MONTH!
My Mother lives in America where they celebrate in May. Invariably what happens is that I remember to call her on the fourth Sunday in Lent because that is when everyone else around me contacts their Mothers. She sounds pleased but slightly confused and we have a pleasant chat. Then when American Mother’s Day actually comes around and she expects said phone call/flowers/hand print I never remember because the British are just plain ornery about it.
It is difficult enough for an ex-pat only child like me to be so far away from my Mommy when I get a booboo and need her special hot chocolate made on the stove with actual milk and a sprinkling of cinnamon, but to then force so much confusion on me as to when I am meant to contact her and say thanks for all the cocoa! It’s just rude, Britain! Sort yourselves out and just conform to America like everyone else does. It’s not like you thought of it first or anything!
What do you mean you’ve been celebrating Mothering Sunday since before my country was born?
Started in the sixteenth century? No way!
Sometimes I cannot help thinking the Americans are just ornery.
Happy Mothering Sunday, Mom!