Universally, moms are the dutiful agents responsible for the indoctrination of the prudence necessary to prepare us for the perilous combat of life. The precepts so generously granted us are called canons. The term canon(s) is actually an aberration of the word cannon(s), symbolic of their purpose in our lives as metaphorical battle shields designed to deflect life's fusillade.
Opposing this maternal custom of instilling wisdom are equally-zealous, ungrateful offspring whose allegiance is to the careless disdain of motherly tenets. Unfortunately, this disregard can yield catastrophic results.
To illustrate the potential detrimental impact of this heedless behavior, I have composed a hypothetical scenario. I have consciously selected a universal tenet in hopes of helping a more diverse audience. Please consider the following Maternal Tenet Rebellion scenario, keeping in mind that this could happen to you.
It's Monday morning. You were up late last night, and you have had less than five hours sleep. Because you did not hear the deafening blare of your alarm clock soon enough, you're late to work again--this time on evaluation day.
Hurriedly, you brush your teeth, put on deodorant, and relieve your bladder simultaneously. As your cat emphatically brushes against your last clean towel, you remember that you're out of clean work clothes. You quickly retrieve last week's wrinkled suit from the laundry basket and leat it to hang in the slower while you don your undergarments. Against your better judgment, you decide to sport your somewhat antiquated, ventilated pair of underwear. You chuckle as you dismiss your foolhardy choice by rationalizing, "Hey, they don't call 'em breaches for nothin', right?"
Sound familiar? Well, friend, you just unwittingly overstepped the undergarment etiquette boundary. Or, perhaps it wasn't inadvertent--perhaps you deliberately committed this rebellious act, scoffing not only at your mother, but at all moms and what they represent. If this is the case, you have quite possibly endangered yourself and others.
As you recklessly dash through the house, you relentlessly discard motherly precepts, all-too-aware that, someday, one of them is going to snare you; you're pushing your luck. Abandoning all nutritional tenets, you grab a doughnut, some coffee, and (for lunch) a Snickers Bar. You roughly pat the kitty on the head, yell at the dog, and run for the door. Your refined meter is hardly interrupted as you trip on last month's newspapers while dodging the bombardment of hot coffee from the cup you so precariously placed on the entertainment stand.
Eventually, you wisely observe Mom's maxim to "always put your best foot forward," by performing the most spectacular sprint of your lifetime on the way to the car. Your car tires brutally violate the pavement as you depart in a whirlwind of dust and flying pebbles. On the highway, you impatiently curse everyone around you; after all, it's their fault you're late, and you're the one who pays road taxes for the specific positions these people are occupying. You skillfully embroider the traffic, using your vehicle as a threaded needle.
Unfortunately, however, in your haste you neglected another of Mom's preparedness rules: always have a traveler's sewing kit handy. You, my friend, just ran out of thread. Blinded by your frenzy, you failed to allow sufficient space between your "threaded needle" and the car in front of you. Thus, your prompt brake application is futile. Your perforated undergarments now serve as more than cross-breeze gear; they are now also very functional sieves.
Minutes later, you are harshly awakened from your abysmal slumber by the annoying wail of your alarm clock. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you become cognizant of your situation: you must be late for work! You slept too late again! Darn! However, as the alarm clock volume steadily increases, you gradually recognize that what you're actually hearing is sirens.
the paramedics arrive to assist you, but you, upon realizing your horrible underwear dilemma, are captured by a sense of obligatory compassion on behalf of your family. You therefore attempt to adamantly refuse medical treatment, determined to bequeath to your family the only thing salvageable--their dignity. Fortunately, the well-trained paramedics are prepared for this common situation; they spare your life.
Although defying motherly precepts rarely yields anything of significant impact, progenies who utterly refuse this maternal wisdom are foolish. A mother's teaching is intended to help us endure life's battles. Recognizing the insight of a mom, and applying her precepts can prolong your life. Rebellion against maternal tenets can be deadly.
1997 essay
