Mother's Love
              by Erma Bombeck

              Someday, when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother, I'll tell them:

              I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going, with whom, and what time you would get home.

              I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover your hand- picked friend was a creep.

              I loved you enough to make you return a Milky Way with a bite out of it to a drugstore and confess, "I stole this."

              I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your bedroom, a job that would have taken me 15 minutes.

              I loved you enough to not make excuses for your lack of respect or your bad manners.

              I loved you enough to ignore "what every other mother" did.

              I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being chaperoned but forgive you for it....after discovering I was right.

              I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall and fail so that you could learn to stand alone.

              I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to be.

              But most of all, I loved you enough to say no when you hated me for it. That was the hardest part of all.


              When God Created Mothers
              by Erma Bombeck

              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 lot of fiddling around on this one."

              And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."

              The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way."

              It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

              That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded.

              One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, '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 goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word."

              God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...."

              I can't," said God, "I'm so 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 on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."

              The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

              But tough!" said God excitedly. "You can imagine what this mother can do or endure."

              Can it think?"

              Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator.

              Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.

              There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told You that You 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 are a genius, " said the angel.

              Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.