Dear Mom, Sorry I'm the Worst

I have this looming fear that a day will come in which I will have a lot to answer for. Whether it is in front of God, Allah, or John Stamos, I will be reminded and likely reprimanded for:

1. Sampling/Stealing candy with my brother when we were younger and went to the grocery store (Sorry, Mom). 
2. Faking sick every First Friday in grade school so that I wouldn't have to go to Mass (Check the attendance books people. Check the books). 
3. Blaming children for pooping their pants when really I had just farted. 
4. World hunger. No...really. I literally just ate a large pizza by myself in less than 24 hours. 

But mostly what I will need to answer for is keeping my mother in a constant state of anxiety.

Many of you can identify with having a mom that calls and texts you incessantly (because they care, of course) and that stays up until the early hours of the morning waiting for you when you insist on staying out late with friends. When people, strangers even, tell me to "Leave your poor mother alone," I know I'm doing something right. 

Mary really is a saint. I knew this for certain the day that she baked me a cake in the shape of a tooth and iced it with white frosting after I had lost my first tooth. 

How do I repay her, you ask? 

Pranks. Public Humiliation. Inappropriate jokes. 

I do it because I care.

The "poor woman" has had to put up with a lot, I do admit. She accepts it though because nearly 25 years ago she decided to have a little girl and now she has to deal with the consequences.

BE THAT AS IT MAY...I have decided to write an open apology letter to my mother so that when the day comes, I will have a clear conscience and you may all bear witness to the fact that I have repented. So without further ado...

Dear Mom,

Sorry I'm the Worst. I am sorry for constantly pranking and humiliating you at random. Specifically, I am sorry for repeatedly jumping onto your back in public and demanding in a lisp that you give me "horsey rides." I am even more sorry that this happened as recently as this year.

I am sorry for being a child con artist who tried to trick you into giving me more Tooth Fairy money by placing a white pebble under my pillow.

I am sorry for making you think I was lost in Harlem at nighttime and that I was either in a gang or a drug neighborhood because there were shoes dangling from the power lines.

**NOTE FOR READERS -- My mom seriously did not talk to me for two weeks after this joke. 

I am somewhat sorry for uploading embarrassing pictures and/or videos of you on social media, but we gotta get dem LIKES, girl!!

I am sorry for that New Year's Eve where I damaged everything on the first floor of our house (Nolan, Patrick, and Caitlin had nothing to do with it).

I am sorry for making you come to my cheerleading competitions because.....cheerleading.

And I am sorry for calling you Judas after you refused to take me to Taco Bell.

However, in my defense, I would label some of these as "acts of retribution."

Mary isn't sugar and spice and everything nice, you know. For instance, when I was a child she used tactics similar to the Vietcong in order to pry information from me. She had threatened to call the mother of the boy whom I had a crush on and tell her AND him that I had a crush on him if I did not tell the truth about a "certain event." I thought she was bluffing until she brought the phone and the school directory into my room. When I held my ground, she proceeded to dial the boy's mother (AKA push the power button on and off). She went so far as giving a fake salutation before I screamed, "OKAY OKAY. I DID IT!! I ATE ICE CREAM TWICE TODAY."

I cried and she was satisfied.
I think that says a lot about my mother, me, and my love for ice cream.

But I know in my heart that when the day of judgement arrives, she and I will be welcomed into the pearly gates of Heaven and/or Pizza Planet because who could deny a duo as good looking as this:

I was told moments later that I was adopted.

M