Thoughts on the many different subsets of mothers, the elusive unifying bond of motherhood, and the communities we're part of, including the ones in our heads in our relationships with books.
Three mothers walk into a bar. One is a well-paid executive who lives in L.A. with her three kids, husband, and nanny. Another, who works as a cashier at a video store, is unmarried with one teenaged child. The third raises her twin toddlers and cares for her dying great-aunt. So the bartender tries to think of something to say to the three of them, something about motherhood that they could all could relate to, but all she can think of are broad emotions like Love and Fear. The three smile politely at each other and at the bartender, then sip their drinks in silence. The bartender cleans some glassware and thinks about what to pack in her kids' lunches. They're all tremendously relieved when the priest and the rabbi walk in.
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