“Who am I kidding? I can’t wear these out in public. Who wears Guess jeans with zippers at the ankle anymore, anyway? I’d be a laughing stock at all my high-powered social events (soccer games, field trips and story hour at the library, just to name a few).”
Mommy Logic also teaches that a single trip is always preferable to multiple trips, and by willpower alone Mothers are able to sprout up to five arms and twenty-three fingers in order to shuttle everything in from the car in one fell swoop. Hence, I can be seen almost daily balancing six grocery bags, five mismatched shoes, four stray tennis balls, three half-empty juice boxes, two stacks of mail, and a partridge in a pear tree, all the while fishing for the keys to open the door. (Mommy Logic prohibits me from putting any sort of signifying mark on my house key that would allow me to identify it easily by sight or feel. What kind of an idiot can’t remember that the house key is the third key clockwise...or is it counterclockwise...from the Volvo key?)
It goes without saying that during all of this my children have mysteriously disappeared. I can hear them around the side of the house, noisily shooting hoops, so as to effectively drown out my desperate cries for help.
And that brings me to what I consider the most profound indictment of Mommy Logic, that families would ever be greater in number than three. I ask you to ponder this thought provoking question: If Mothers were truly a logical lot, would the word ‘sibling’ have ever entered the English language?
