What I Really Want & What I’ll Actually Get This Mother’s Day

Motherhood is nothing if not a master class in managing your expectations.

Jenn Knott
May 10, 2019 · 3 min read
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1) What I want: Good quality, wireless noise-canceling headphones that have extended battery life and feel like butter on my head.

What I’ll get: Two mounds of used candle wax molded into cone shapes, which more or less fill the voids of my ear holes.

2) What I want: Genius refrigerator using advanced emotion recognition technology to issue appropriate pick-me-up compliments as soon as I wrench open its door in the morning.

What I’ll get: One of those talking cards playing a pre-recorded message like, “Don’t yell at us!” or “Someday you’ll look back with regret!,” stuck in the fridge, activated at my own discretion.

3) What I want: Personal French chef who spoils me rotten for an evening and leaves no trace of his activity.

What I’ll get: Two gas station frozen pizzas past their expiration date and a sink full of greasy plates.

4) What I want: Bottle of red Châteauneuf-du-Pape from the nice wine store.

What I’ll get: The dregs of all our almost-empty cough syrups mixed together like a cocktail, topped off with rubbing alcohol.

5) What I want: A weekend escape at a luxury beach hotel, spent mostly half-naked and alone in a lounge chair soaking up vitamin D.

What I’ll get: Thirty minutes in a bikini under the patio heat lamp in which I listen to The Beach Boys’ Greatest Hits and endure probing questions as to the origin of every scar and stretch mark.

6) What I want: An hour-long, full-body massage at the expensive spa performed by the attractive but not creepy guy.

What I’ll get: Five to six tennis balls duct taped to a yardstick and raked across my back for the duration of two Peppa Pig episodes.

7) What I want: A large bathtub practically spilling over with piping hot water and frothy bubbles and surrounded by aromatherapy tea lights, just waiting to envelop me in relaxation.

What I’ll get: A cocoon of our cleanest throw blankets set up on the couch, a few drug store candles burning on the window sill, and a generous spray of fire extinguisher foam when both the curtains and my wrappings go up in flames.

8) What I want: Tranquilizer darts in child-size doses, plus some in adult-size that can be self-administered like an EpiPen.

What I’ll get: Some illegal hallucinogenic plant pieces mailed to me inside carefully re-sealed candy wrappers by my brother, the hippie horticulturist.

9) What I want: A hysterectomy, next available.

What I’ll get: Tiny fists mercilessly pummeling the specific abdominal area I’ve circled with a Sharpie for however long I can bear it without screaming my safe word.

10) What I want: One appointment with a qualified lady therapist who’s paid to assure me I’m not a sacrilege to motherhood but a normal human woman doing the best she can, bound for many inevitable small failures.

What I’ll get: Two sweet kisses, two big warm hugs, and a genuine declaration like, “You’re sure not flawless, but we probably deserve each other.”

Jenn Knott is a parenting and comedy writer based in Bavaria, Germany. She’s written for RAZED, Points in Case, & Little Old Lady Comedy and contributes regularly to German parenting site Hallo Eltern. Find her on Twitter @jkusesherwords or at jennknott.com.

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Jenn Knott

Written by

Connoisseur of quiet, makes exceptions for dance parties. Writing in McSweeney’s, American Bystander, The Belladonna, Slackjaw. Tweeties @jkusesherwords



Medium humor. Large laughs.

Jenn Knott

Written by

Connoisseur of quiet, makes exceptions for dance parties. Writing in McSweeney’s, American Bystander, The Belladonna, Slackjaw. Tweeties @jkusesherwords



Medium humor. Large laughs.

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