Battle Hymn of the Bad Catholic Mother

Unless you’ve been trapped in the basement watching re-runs of “21 Jump Street” you have probably heard of the latest mother in hot water. And I don’t mean the hot tub.

A martyred soul named Amy Chua has written a book called Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.

Let it be known that I have not read it (“21 Jump Street” isn’t going to watch itself).

But it seems she is making the rest of us look bad (if you want highly achieving robot-like children) or good (if you are a fun-loving lay-about-the-house American child).

From what I can gather, she makes her children practice their musical instruments for three to six hours a day, and that’s the fun part.

Not only are they plunking or bleating on their chosen instrument, she is sitting right there with them taking notes. Clearly she has never even seen an episode of 21 Jump Street, and I’m not even sure she wants to.

What in the name of putrid mothering is she doing? Where’s the down time? Where’s the good old American lollygagging? We know we’re falling behind in math and science as a nation but we’re falling behind in a relaxing “take a load off after school” sort of way. Sheesh lady, chillax.

But the rest of us are looking pretty darn good, let me tell you.

Thank you Ms. Chua!  Mothers everywhere have never appeared so free-spirited and jolly in comparison.

I’m doing something right as a Bad Catholic Mother because yesterday, Larry, gently insulted me while employing use of the correct Saint in doing so.

Me: (scratching the dog) “See, Otis likes it when you scratch under his left  jaw line.”

Larry: (eating non Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother snack of cupcake): “Thanks St. Francis.”

My heart soared! St. Francis is the patron saint of animals (take that Tiger mother).

All those hours spent with flash cards of the saints really paid off.

She’s got “hymn” in the title of her book, so I had to take her on.

You know that.

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