I will remember, I WILL remember (repeat ad infinitum)

The uttered phrase “It’s Mother’s Day this Sunday” is one that usually sends me into blind panic. I have trouble enough remembering my birthday and those of immediate friends and family so expecting me to remember a day that changes on an annual basis is a tad unfair, I’ve always thought.

Anyway, this year I’ve remembered. Five days in advance, no less! I was thrown into my customary panic last Thursday when my gym, of all places, advertised a special Mother’s Day offer. I’ve no idea what this offer entails (Bring your mother and get a free pilates class? Bring ten mothers and get a discarded exercise bike?) as The Fear descended on me at that point and I spent my entire session on the treadmill, weights, cycle, and rower repeating the title of this post. I got some strange looks, but given my propensity my play air guitar or sing along to songs without realising it, this was a distinctly normal couple of hours for those I share exercise space with.

I was mildly annoyed with my gym for spreading unnecessary hysteria among twenty-something males when I got home and discovered I was about to order a last-minute present a week too early, but as it’d at least planted the day in my brain I knew I had to be grateful. I then did something I hardly ever do and wrote down The Thought as it occurred to me so I didn’t forget.

It’s a habit I must get into more often as today I ACTUALLY remembered and, after a secondary panic that I was buying something wholly unsuitable, I briefly felt all of 3 minutes incredibly smug with myself. I say briefly because I know without writing The Thought that Sunday is Mother’s Day I will forget and will head off to watch football, or simply watch a triple bill of Monk on the Hallmark Channel and utterly forget to call home. I’m that rubbish.

So the is The Thought being written down. It’s purpose is threefold. Firstly, to serve the simple purpose of reminding me to ring home whenever I log in on Sunday. Secondly to install the panic in other twentysomething men ahead of the weekend and give them enough time to sort out, at least, a card or even write down The Thought of their own.

Finally, it serves as a public chastising for yours truly to be infinitely less rubbish when it comes to birthdays, family anniversaries, keeping in contact in general, and other assorted events that my brain has carefully filed away, only to resurrect five days after the event. Much like the free train ticket for the journey mid-February I applied for that eventually arrived in the post this morning.

So, in the spirit of me, on most occasions, being a right dozy little sod, I’m opening up the comments for anybody who’s birthday I’ve forgotten to chastise and shame me into being a generally less rubbish person. Future people I’ve yet to encounter may also use the opportunity to gently chide. It doesn’t matter if I don’t know you (well) yet – I WILL forget your birthday and the drink we arranged last Wednesday on at least one occasion.

And for that I apologise.

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Yes, this is my name. And my email. Use it wisely or you're not getting a biscuit with your tea: garyllewellynandrews [at] gmail [dot] com

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