Thanks, Mom

When I first moved out of the house, I used to call my mom every other day for cooking help. She was my personal combination of Ready Reference and Take Home Chef all rolled into one. Looking back now, most of my calls were pretty ridiculous, but hey, you've got to learn, right?

"Yeah, Mom? It's me. I'm trying to boil an egg and it keeps cracking every time I drop it in the boiling water. What am I doing wrong? Oh, so I've got to GENTLY place the egg in the pan, THEN add water and THEN put it on the stove? Yeah, I was just dropping it in."

"Mom, if I were to make, say a lasagna, how would I do it and do you have any of the ingredients and I can borrow them?"

Then, when my kids were first born and I realized what unbelievably hard work it is raising them, I'd call her to apologize for all the rotten/difficult stuff I did.

"Yeah, Mom? Remember when I used to projectile vomit all over everything? Sorry about that."

"Hey Mom. Remember when I spilled cherry Kool-Aid on the living room carpet? Yeah... I'm really sorry."

But lately, I'm feeling compelled to just call her up and thank her for all the basic, how-to-get-through-life wisdom she gave me without even really trying. And I'm finding that it's the mundane stuff that's actually the most useful.

For one thing, she taught me how to grocery shop. Sounds simple, right? Not really. She taught me three basic rules that save me hundreds of dollars each year:

1. Plan ahead.
2. Make a list.
3. Stick to the damn list.

Mom also taught me through example, the art of extreme resourcefulness. Seriously, she's like MacGyver. She can do anything with a butter knife and her trusty singer sewing machine. And she loves being presented with a challenge:

"What? We need to make a 3-D replica of a hammerhead shark for tomorrow? Okie dokie!"

The woman simply lives for Halloween. As kids we never had store-bought costumes. They were ALWAYS homemade and they were always TOTALLY EFFING AWESOME. How many kids do you know who went as the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria?

And let me tell you, I thank God at least twice a week that she passed her creativity and resourcefulness on to me. (Especially every time one of the kids announce that "Career Day" is less than 12 hours away.)

"Hold on honey, let me just take this coat hanger, hot-glue gun and old slip and I'll make your circus ringmaster uniform in a jiffy!"

Oh, and don't get me started on the Momisms I now use. My use of profanity is gradually being replaced by phrases only Moms say. What exactly is a "jiffy?" I don't know, but I say it A LOT.

And I want you to know that I'm doing my best to pass on valuable, life-enhancing knowledge to little Mad Dog, Crow Bar and The Deuce. Since day one, I've cradled each one in my arms and whispered my own words of wisdom:

"Be cool, stay in school."

"Credit cards are for emergencies."

"Nobody likes a whiner."

God, I hope they're listening.