It's not International Workers' Day. It's not a real holiday. It's Mother's Day, a bullshit holiday, probably invented by Hallmark. I had to get my mother a card. Once I didn't buy Mommie a card and she went ballistic. Maybe that was a good time to tell her that I didn't buy her a card because she failed me as a mother. I've never actually told her that, but she's told me I've failed her as a son.
Some of my earliest memories was the fucking bitch stepping on me. It hurts to be stepped on when you're three or four years old. It knocks the wind out of you. And it's terrifying because some fucking maniac who you depend on is giving you pain and horror.
Mommie can't watch violence in movies. "Oy" she says, and turns her head. How horrible it is for her to see fictitious characters in movies committing violence. Mommie's only comfortable with violence when she's the one committing it.
I never put much effort into selecting Mommie's card. Just give the card display a cursory look and buy which ever card has the least amount of sentiment. But whatever is written on the card never applies to my Mommie.
This year's card had a very cute cat on it. On the cover it said, "Know what's nice about a Mother like you?" On the inside it said, "Everything! Happy Mother's Day." I always write on the card, "Love Dickie."
I wish Hallmark came out with a card for shit, abusive mothers, unworthy of the title Mother. And I could sign them, "Hate Dickie."