A Mothers Day Kiss Off
Chris Smith
Professor Chapman
Composition II
16 February 2012
A Critique of “A Mother’s Day Kiss-Off”
By Leslie Bennett’s
It is Sunday morning and you stayed up till two am writing your presentation for work for Monday 's meeting at work. You are awaken by the curtain and shades being opened and the sun is shining in on you and as you glance at the clock and you think to yourself what hell time is it; it is only six fifteen in the morning, what could the emergency be I ask myself. My children laugh and say Happy Mother day momma and it puts a smile on my face immediately. My husband gives me a tray of breakfast with a rose and a homemade card from the children. I’m over joyed and the children jump in bed with me and share fruit and juice while I drink my black hot coffee and try to get my senses. My husband walks out while telling me Happy Mother’s Day. After having my special time playing with the children for a while and dressing them for church, it was my turn to get around and mossy into the rest of the house and get the day going. To my surprise as we walked thru the kitchen there was dishes laying and stacked to the ceiling. The smell of burnt bacon and the site of spilt pancake powder on the floor, orange juice cans on the cabinets, syrup spilt, egg shells in the sink, seemingly all dishes dirty on cabinets was the beginning of the once unreasonable responsibility that was left for me to clean up. Mother’s day was over. Looking for the man of the house, he had already found the daily newspaper and engaged in reading it. Working so hard during the week and fixing Mother’s Day special breakfast, his day was over. The kitchen had to be cleaned; the children needed to be taken to Sunday school, and then picked back up from Sunday school in the afternoon. Grocery shopping needed to be done on Sunday’s due to the both of us working long hours 6 days a week and juggling dance classes for the girls there wasn’t any time to shop during the week.
Professor Chapman
Composition II
16 February 2012
A Critique of “A Mother’s Day Kiss-Off”
By Leslie Bennett’s
It is Sunday morning and you stayed up till two am writing your presentation for work for Monday 's meeting at work. You are awaken by the curtain and shades being opened and the sun is shining in on you and as you glance at the clock and you think to yourself what hell time is it; it is only six fifteen in the morning, what could the emergency be I ask myself. My children laugh and say Happy Mother day momma and it puts a smile on my face immediately. My husband gives me a tray of breakfast with a rose and a homemade card from the children. I’m over joyed and the children jump in bed with me and share fruit and juice while I drink my black hot coffee and try to get my senses. My husband walks out while telling me Happy Mother’s Day. After having my special time playing with the children for a while and dressing them for church, it was my turn to get around and mossy into the rest of the house and get the day going. To my surprise as we walked thru the kitchen there was dishes laying and stacked to the ceiling. The smell of burnt bacon and the site of spilt pancake powder on the floor, orange juice cans on the cabinets, syrup spilt, egg shells in the sink, seemingly all dishes dirty on cabinets was the beginning of the once unreasonable responsibility that was left for me to clean up. Mother’s day was over. Looking for the man of the house, he had already found the daily newspaper and engaged in reading it. Working so hard during the week and fixing Mother’s Day special breakfast, his day was over. The kitchen had to be cleaned; the children needed to be taken to Sunday school, and then picked back up from Sunday school in the afternoon. Grocery shopping needed to be done on Sunday’s due to the both of us working long hours 6 days a week and juggling dance classes for the girls there wasn’t any time to shop during the week.
Cited: Brennetts, Leslie. “A Mother’s Day Kiss-Off.” Writing and Reading Across the Curriculum Los Angeles Times: May 13 2007 A418 – A420. Print