Without them, I don't know where I would have ended up. Certainly not in a beautiful Michigan house, sitting on a comfortable sofa, sipping bourbon from a crystalline glass.
My sometimes-pregnant wife, obviously, is not my mother. She is, however, the mother of my sons.
And this one:
Watching her mothering skills in action only reinforces what I've known for almost 15 years: marrying this woman was the best decision I've ever made. She is also probably the only person in the world (sorry ladies) who could ever talk me into fathering a third child, which is why I've gone ahead with measures to sterilize myself while she is out of town.
My actual mother had three children of her own. She did a fine job with all three, but by my reckoning, the middle child is the one she got just right. I would like to add that she has put as much work into this new house as its occupants. That's why we've set her up with a basement suite, where she can rest her weary bones.
Mother's Day has come and gone, but a love note to a mom is always timely, so let me just say: Hey Mothers, I love you!