The Term 'working Mother' Is Redundant.

I Read One Psychologist's Theory That Said, "never Strike A Child In Your Anger." When Could I Strike Him? When He Is Kissing Me On My Birthday? When He's Recuperating From Measles? Do I Slap The Bible Out Of His Hand On Sunday?

Any Mother With Half A Skull Knows That When Daddy's Little Boy Becomes Mommy's Little Boy, The Kid Is So Wet He's Treading Water.

My Son Would Walk To The Refrigerator-freezer And Fling Both Doors Open And Stand There Until The Hairs In His Nose Iced Up. After Surveying $200 Worth Of Food In Varying Shapes And Forms, He Would Declare Loudly, 'there's Nothing To Eat!'

You Show Me A Boy Who Brings A Snake Home To His Mother And I'll Show You An Orphan.

It's The Three Pairs Of Eyes That Mothers Have To Have...one Pair That See Through Closed Doors. Another In The Back Of Her Head...and, Of Course, The Ones In Front That Can Look At A Child When He Goofs Up And Reflect 'i Understand And I Love You' Without So Much As Uttering A Word.