Mother’s day is just around the corner and I am very lucky because I have the greatest mom on earth (and so do you). She’s so great that I carry her on my shoulder as a guide for politeness, manners and how to properly carry myself in public. For example I must always wear clean underwear in case I get into an accident. Nobody wants a paramedic to look at my dirty underwear and say, “his poor mother.” Or clean your ears because potatoes will grow in them. To this day I don’t eat pomme de terre in any form, including french fries. She is my guru for mindfulness long before the idea became a western fad.
So there I am sitting in a garage waiting for the mechanics to exchange my winter tires for summer. I am standing, staring at the grease marks on the floor, hoping I didn’t jinx the weather. How many times have I put away the snow shovel too early? And boom the next day ten centimeters of white hell falls from the sky. In the waiting room there are only two chairs, so I stand and ponder. A few minutes later a slim and fit young guy, say in his late twenties, comes in and plops down on the only vacant seat. He pulls out his phone and removes himself from reality. The other guy in the chair is in his late fifties, a little over weight, varicose and might have problems standing for a long period of time even though he’s driving a brand new, midnight coloured two-door Dodge Charger. So I guess he doesn’t need to stand, ever.
A few minutes later, in comes a mom tied down with parcels and a rambunctious toddler. The young man looks around to see if anyone is watching. He scans over to me and I give him the stink eye but to no avail (as if any creature on the planet would fear my smelly eye). The young dude goes back to his phone. The bogged down and tired woman stands. Why do people do this? Do they think they can hide and not face the discourtesy around them? There are real people in the world and they are still looking at you. I go over, stand in front of him and say, “What would your mother say if …”
“What would your mother say..” if you were so inconsiderate you wouldn’t give up your seat to a mother loaded down with baggage and a two year old in tow. My mother would be so disappointed. She’d also be disgusted if I sat on public transit reading my ebook (entitled, “How to control the world through commodity stock”) while ignoring a pregnant woman, hanging on to a strap barely able to balance.
What would your mother say if there was only one seat left in a food court because it was lunch hour and you and your friends ran ahead of an eighty-eight year old women, struggling to make it to the seat and took it from her? My mother would grab my by the ear, drag me back to the food court and make me apologize to the elderly woman who has done more for this society in one hour than you have in a life time.
What would your mother say if she you gave up your seat to a mother with kids or a pregnant woman or a senior? She’d be damn proud and tell you it’s the best Mother’s Day present ever. Happy Mother’s Day mom. And thanks for making me a better person even though I forgot to change my underwear this morning.