Sitting beside the computer is a framed copy of a drawing my eldest daughter drew at kindergarten. Looking at it the other day I was reminded of the Meanest Mother story.
My mothering began in the late 70s. Somewhere at that time I found a copy of the Meanest Mother story written in 1967, which many of you will know.
Each time I admonished the kids for small infractions or cajoled them to co-operate and they grumped I would use the broken record technique and spout...
"But don't you know by now that I am the meanest mother in the world."
Recently I came across the story again on the internet and I was surprised at how dated the content has become. I was going to include it here but while some of the article still has merit, much of it is obsolete.
My children have turned into sensible, reliable, happy, settled adults with partners and jobs and hopes for the future. But best of all, even though she was the meanest mother in the world they love and respect their Mother.
