The clock is ticking. As I write this, it is less than 72 hours until Mother's Day. Getting down to crunch time for finding that perfect gift. Earlier in the week, I mentioned how my kids shopped for their most perfect of mothers when they were all small. It reminded me of another story I did once here at KMBC. I took an 8x10 of my own mom up to Antioch Mall and asked folks going in what they would buy for such a woman. In addition to the usual ideas of flowers and candy, some thought she looked like a lady who should be riding in a new convertible or taking a luxurious cruise or wearing lots of diamonds. It is easy to spend someone else's money...even when the someone else doesn't have it. One older gentleman, with a twinkle in his eye, looked at the photo and said "Hubba Hubba." Yes, he really said, "Hubba Hubba." I felt incredibly uncomfortable. "Maybe she could use a new husband!" he growled. Now, I was moving from uncomfortable to panic. All of a sudden, my silly little story had become like some Twilight Zone version of Love Connection and I was Chuck Woolery. What do you get for the woman who has everything? An unwanted, lecherous, old suitor! That was the one and only year, I solicited help on getting a gift for my mom.

When I was little, she liked candles so my brothers and I bought her candles. Scented. With four sons, assorted dogs, and other odd creatures running around, scented was the obvious choice. If you bought a candle shaped like a castle or duck or something, she'd never burn it so we ended up getting candles that looked like candles. Eventually she had had enough of the candles. If you lit everyone of them at once, Smokey the Bear would have had a coronary and we didn't even live in the woods.

Like everyone else, I also made things for her at school like a tin ash-tray, although she never smoked; a spice rack that was a little too narrow for the containers; a blue, clay pot that looked like something from that famous scene in Ghost, if, instead of Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze, the stars were Jerry Lewis and Charo. I also hammered some pictures out of metal. One was a puppy and the other an old Model A...although, if you looked at them upside down the puppy looked more like a car and the car more like a puppy. I could pretend I was going for a Picasso-esque effect but even Pablo would've asked "What the heck are those supposed to be?" I placed the two metal pictures in a hand-made wooden frame. My angles were not quite right, though. If you've ever been to one of those attractions where everything seems off-kilter...The Wonder Spot in Wisconsin Dells or Grandpa's Mansion at Silver Dollar City, for example...well, my picture frame would have looked perfect hanging on those walls. Despite my lack of industrial arts skill, my mom still displays all these gifts. She is either very proud or feels that my work up until the age of 12 was the highlight of my career and it's been all downhill since.

For awhile she collected teddy bears, so she got a bunch of bears. That's the trouble with collections: people always think you want more of it when really it may have just been coincidence that everywhere you went salt and pepper shakers, for example, got thrown in the bag. In any case, after her house started to look like a Care Bears convention, she subtly mentioned she had enough of them. Her exact words were along the lines of "If I get one more bear, I will go into hibernation!" She went through a red-stuff-for-the-kitchen phase...a bird-house phase followed closely by a cardinals (the bird not the team) phase.

One year, my brothers and I chipped in together and bought her wire-spoked hub-caps for her car. We have a photo of her being surprised by the new automotive look. Her hands are up in the air and her jaw has dropped. It was one of her favorite presents, ever. Who needs candy, flowers, diamonds, a cruise or even a secret, albeit rather creepy, admirer...when you've got cool hub-caps.