No, I’m not pregnant and I don’t think my brother is either

When it comes to any special occasion: birthdays, holidays, long weekends, I am very thorough, thoughtful and detail oriented.

When shopping for a friend’s July birthday in June, I found a perfect birthday card for my mom. Her birthday is in January. I bought it and saved it for seven months. If I needed to send a Christmas card right now, I could.

I’m always ahead of the Hallmark rush at CVS until this past weekend. Somehow, at 11am ON Mother’s Day, I found myself in the card aisle. I do not regret baking two cakes instead of shopping for a card.

In the past, when I’m three weeks ahead of Mother’s Day, I’ll spend a good 20 minutes reading card after card. ‘This one might be good. Oh this one is better. Now that I think about it, I don’t like this one anymore.’ And I’ll be near three or four other women doing the same thing.

At 11am on Mother’s Day, there is not a single woman anywhere near the Hallmark aisle. It’s full of men. And not the same three or four men, lots of different men. Each man walks up, grabs a card, maybe reads it and heads for the cashier.

I feel like I’ve been there forever and I’ve only read five cards. I did find a great one in under ten minutes, so maybe these guys are onto something. Although if I’d gone for the first card I picked up it would’ve told my mom what a great grandmother she is.

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