Raw, adjective: 5. crude in quality or character; not tempered or refined by art or taste: raw humor.
Not gonna lie; the obligatory overearnest oozing of canned filial love out of the cultural pores every Mother's Day kind of makes me twitchy. It's that whole institutionalized-emotional-outpouring-packaged-by-Hallmark-for-your-convenience thing, you know.
Luckily, Salon's Heather Havrilesky - a mom in her own right - feels the same way. She's got a great send-up of all the syrupy sentiments flooding the interwebs today. Read her snarky little piece and let it exfoliate away all the sugary nothings stuck to your skin on this Sunday when the restaurants are full of amateur diners and the flower shops all sold out of cheap carnations before noon.
Quick blurb from her ode to the single childless sadsacks who are - sigh - gulping down tequila in hot pants today instead of receiving a crayon-crafted masterpiece from a sweet but sticky little tot:
It makes me feel so incredibly sad, this Mother's Day, to think that not only won't these unhappy singles receive a mass-produced greeting card (which I now recognize is a deeply significant expression of heartfelt emotion), but they might never know the real meaning of love, which involves doing six loads of laundry in a single day. My heart breaks to think they might never experience the indescribable joy and immense philosophical insights that arise from wiping the same little butts over and over again!
Hee hee. Read it. You'll smirk. And then, for realz, go hug your mom or mother figure or Mother Earth or motherboard.
Mothering Heights (Salon)