What's a mom?

This was my sweet Mother's Day letter from Trevor. :)

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Mom.
A mom.

What’s a mom?
I suppose a mom is just where we all come from – a simple origin of sorts.
Our genesis. Beginning. Source.

But what’s a mom?

I guess a mom is simply a tutor – a trainer of sorts.
To start us off in life. Point us in the right direction. Guide us. Teach us right and wrong.

A mom? Who’s mom?

Oh, she’s the maid. She cleans everything. Dirty dishes? She’ll take care of them!
Leave your clothes on the floor? Don’t worry – that’s HER job! They’ll be washed soon.

So what’s a mom?

A mom is just a disciplinarian – the slap on our hand when we reach for the cookie jar.
A policewoman. The rule enforcer. “The Man”.

Hey, have you heard of a mom?

She’s like a sidekick, - the comic relief. You live your life, and every once in a while, when you interact with her, she says something hilarious.
And makes everything a little bit easier because of it.

And what IS a mom?

A cook. All she does is cook. Her job is to feed us.
Spaghetti, pork, vegetables, casserole – you name it. She’s a pretty good cook.
I like her food a lot.

What is a mom?

Two words. Trans. Portation. She gets you where you need to be.
She’s a chauffeur. A driver. When you need a ride, she’s your woman!

Wait, a mom? What’s that?

Oh, it’s this awesome money machine! Dude, like you just push a few buttons and say a few words, and you get money! It’s so crazy. And it never runs out.
Oh, and you can set it up on this recurrence plan, where it like automatically gives you money on a certain day every month. Plus it pays for meals. You should totally get one.

Could you tell me what a mom is?

Sure – she’s a confidant! Life’s got you down? Go to your mom!
Her job is to listen to anything you say, and give advice on anything and everything.

I bet a lot of people wish they had a mom – the awesome secretary/fixer I have!
She does all my paperwork for me, calls the people I need to, straightens out messes, does tech support, fills out applications, and makes appointments.
You name an administrative task, and she does it for me! (P.S. She got me into college.)

I bet a lot of people wish they had my mom. She does everything: She created me, she raised me, she disciplined me, she cooks, she cleans, she judges, she keeps order, she jokes, she drives, she pays, she works, she works, she works! And she works. And how.

But she loves.

She loves like I don’t understand. It’s like if I told you that I would pay you 70% of everything I ever earn, and as MY payment, I made you promise to take it. It doesn’t make sense. I guess her house will just be really big in heaven.

Yeah, I think I’ll probably want to live with my mom there. She’ll have like, a mansion. And I’ll ride my moped over from my hut, up her driveway past all her limousines and hummers and ferraris, up to her personal parking deck. And then I’ll take the diamond elevator up to the front door, where she’ll have one of those awesome video doorbells that projects a 3D hologram of who you are the owner inside, and will probably play you your favorite song as you wait patiently outside for her to fly down from her bedroom on the 87^th floor. She’ll open the door and see me with my hopeful grin and mooching face on, and she’ll be like “Trevor, do you even have a house?? This is the like 120^th time this week (‘cause weeks in heaven are 70 times 7 days long) that you’ve ‘needed a place to crash for the night’!” And I’ll just mumble something incoherent about “unruly cherubim gangs in my part of town” while she kindly lets me in again, and as she rolls her eyes and flies back upstairs, I’ll dive onto her pegasus-feather couch and be engulfed into its succulent comfyness.

Suffice to say, she’s done a lot. And she deserves a lot.

Mom.

What’s a mom? Oh let me tell YOU…

I bet a lot of people wish they had my mom.