Maybe That's Why We Don't Talk.

While doing my Mother’s Day shopping (for my wife) this week I saw a lot of great gift ideas. I spent a lot of time trying to decide what she would like the most. This is hard to do when there is a 7-year-old girl who wants to go home and play, instead of shopping for mommy with you.

I always try to pick something nicer than what Sherri would normally buy for herself, or something she wouldn’t normally buy for herself. I finally decided on a skirtini and a pair of shoes to match.

While driving home I thought about what I might get for my own mother for Mother’s Day. I don’t really talk to my mom much anymore, so I don’t put the kind of effort that I should into her gift. I know that sounds bad and I have come to realize that maybe some of my previous efforts at her Mother’s Day gifts may have contributed to our lack of communication.

Here are some examples.

I'm sure I saw some of this stuff in her bathroom. So when I saw it at the store I thought, "Hey, mom uses this stuff. I'm sure she would love getting some more for Mother's Day!"

OK, so mom has a little moustache, some sideburns, and ... a beard. No biggy. This Epilady thing takes care of all of that. I think it takes care of armpits, legs, and other hairy spots, if you know what I mean. She haaaad to think this was a great gift. The salesman said it actually feels good when you use it too!

When I was a kid, I KNOW I saw one of these in her bathroom. I remember asking what it was. She said it was a massager. I also remember it was boring looking and white. Now that I'm older and wiser, I thought it would be funny to remind her of that fine mother-son moment with something a little more colorful. I'm sure she was all laughs when the UPS man needed her to sign for the package.