It's Saturday, and Mother's Day is tomorrow. And if you're reading this email right now, there's a reasonable chance you haven't figured out what you're doing yet.
I'd be the last to judge, man... I've been there more times than I'd like to admit.
Here's the thing about Mother's Day gifts: in theory, it's simple. You love your mom or your wife, man. You want her to feel that and you want to do something nice. Beautiful concept.
But in practice? You wake up on a Saturday in May and suddenly realize you've been meaning to "figure something out" for three weeks and you have approximately 24 hours.
I've been married to Shelby for a long time, man (a long time). And I can tell you with complete confidence that I know exactly what she wants for Mother's Day. She wants a day where nobody needs anything from her. No questions. No "Mom, where's my...?" No decisions.
Just a full day of being left completely, beautifully alone with a good book and something cold to drink.
That's pretty much the whole gift she wants.
And yet every year, somehow, we end up scrambling to find flowers that aren't completely sad-looking, or ordering something online that arrives three days late, or presenting her with a gift card in an envelope like we're handing her a birthday card at a gas station.
(I once gave Shelby a gift card to a restaurant we'd already been to and didn't particularly like. We don't need to talk about that.)
So in the spirit of doing better (for all of us) here is Tommy Chong's completely unofficial, last-minute Mother's Day gift guide for all of us lucky enough to still have a mother around to celebrate:
What I Think Most Moms Actually Want: A day off. Brunch they didn't have to plan. Someone else doing the dishes. A long nap without guilt. To be told (specifically and out loud) that they are doing a great job.
What We Often End Up Getting Them: Flowers from the grocery store (still in the plastic sleeve). A candle that smells fine. Breakfast in bed that they have to clean up after. A card we signed without reading. A phone call that starts with "I was going to send something but..."
What We Should Have Gotten Them: Here are a few ideas that might actually land, even at this point in the game.
Book her something she'd never book for herself. A massage. A spa day. A cooking class. A pottery class (everyone secretly wants to do the pottery class). Something that says "I thought about what you'd enjoy" rather than "I grabbed this on the way over."
Plan the whole day and handle every single detail. Don't ask her where she wants to eat. Don't ask her what time. Just show up with a plan and execute it. That alone puts you in the top 10% of Mother's Day gift-givers, I promise you.
Write her a real letter. Not a card you signed. An actual letter about what she means to you and a specific memory you have with her. This costs nothing and will be kept forever (I know this from experience)
And if you're really in a pinch and you're going to do the "print out the order confirmation and put it in a card" move (which, look, we've all been there) at least make it something good.
A jar of
Space Chews and a note that says "for a relaxing afternoon, from me to you" is genuinely a better gift than another candle, man!
If that's your speed, you can still use code
MADRE at checkout over on
Cheechandchong.com for 25% off, or start a new subscription and it comes off automatically.
If you order today, it won't arrive tomorrow... but the card with the confirmation email is half the charm at this point, right?
Now here's what I actually want from you today.
First, if you're a Mom in the familia: reply to this email and tell us what you actually want for Mother's Day.
And for everyone: what's your go-to Mother's Day gift or tradition? The thing that actually works, or the thing you always fall back on? Hit reply and let us know, man!
Keep on keepin' on,
Peace and love,
