A family was having dinner on Mother’s Day. For some reason, the mother
was unusually quiet. Finally the husband asked what was wrong.
“Nothing,” said the woman.
Not buying it, he asked again. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Do you really want to know? Well, I’ll tell you. I have cooked and
cleaned and fed the five kids for fifteen years and on Mother’s Day, you
don’t even tell me so much as “thank you.”
“Why should I?” he said. “Not once in fifteen years have I gotten a
Father’s Day gift.”
“Yes,” she said, “but I’m their real mother.”