What Every Mother Really Wants

Hello, America. Are you thinking about Mother's Day? Feeling a tad guilty because the woman that merely gave you life has not yet merited a trip to the card store yet? Oh I know, you're SO BUSY. Take it from this mom of three, keep your cards/flowers/chocolates. Momma wants a pharmaceutical, and I'm not suggesting showing up to Sunday brunch with a "J" in tow. (Noted exception; if you're living in CO).

As for the rest of you, don't be obtuse, I'm talking about taking a step into the time machine. Sigh. Work with me, please.

Before she was Your Mom, she was a smoking hot babe. And then YOU came along. With all the glories of weight gain, stretch marks and breastfeeding. The colic. The teething. The picky eater. And all before you could walk. So thanks for that hazing ritual, it sure kept things real. Real shitty.

Now that you're sailing through adulthood, how do you intend to right your wrongs? Listen closely, let me whisper the magical salve that she craves; Botox.

Make an appointment for her with the dermatologist. Posthaste.

Accompany Mom to the doctor's office full of bravado, engage in small talk with a medical assistant that undoubtedly attended a sub-par technician school (she's nice enough), and have her succumb to needles. Willingly elect to have many needles full of Botulism injected into your MOTHER'S FACE. She will emerge looking rested, well -- once the swelling subsides. This will undoubtedly make up for the teenage years. Maybe even the macabre tattoos on your forearm. Who knows? You could very well end up the favorite after all.

The kicker -- you'll pay for this privilege. A lot. My advice, don't look for "a deal" when shopping around for injectables. Yes I know, I hate to pay retail too. Wholesale is actually a derivative word from Hebrew, meaning "don't be a schmuck." Sidenote: I am so grateful my parents sacrificed so much to send me to a Jewish day school. My math skills are remedial and my geography is strictly limited to former French colonies. I cannot locate Ohio. Alors.

I digress.

Despite my children trying to push me over the literal edge daily (we no longer hike), I refuse to succumb. REFUSE. And there is no reason why you should look like a hag either, the world needs more pretty. I could swear that's a Beyonce song. It's practically unpatriotic not to subscribe. What would Mom want? An Ameri-can or an Ameri-can't? Thought so. Consumerism is very USA.

So a shout-out of appreciation from this Momma to Botox and big pharma for getting this anti-perspiration drug approved off-script by the FDA to prevent wrinkles. Sure, we've got Alzheimer's, Heart Disease and Cancer. But, priorities people! Contrary to what you've read, these enterprises need to be celebrated for their foresight and vision. Your mother will thank me. Well, not "me" per se, but derivatively, there will be gratitude felt.