Another Mothers Day has passed. Whew.

I wish people would keep it to themselves. Or to their own mothers.

We’ve learned not to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. What if that barista is Jewish? Suppose the bus driver is an atheist? Not everyone celebrates the birth of Jesus.

And not everyone celebrates a mother, or even the concept of motherhood.

Some women would have liked to be a mom but it didn’t work out; why remind them? Some of us had nasty mothers or no mother at all. For others, the word “mother” conjures up bleak memories of a brutal childhood.

Doesn’t anyone remember Norman Bates? Joan Crawford?

A little sensitivity here would go a long way. There should signs reminding us: Please wish only your own mother or mother surrogate a Happy Mother’s Day.

Motherhood can be enriching for some women; for others it simply turns them more inward, toward family, to the exclusion of the wider community. I’ve seen mothers fight for their children, at the expense of other kids. I’ve heard mothers complain that their kid, one of twenty-five or thirty, gets only one twenty-fifth of the teacher’s attention. Maybe that’s the mother who should get flowers. Or maybe the women who chose to “mother” other peoples’ children, or students or nieces and nephews should get the flowers.

Motherhood and apple pie?

To sum up and perfectly ruin a good Godfather line: Leave motherhood. Keep the apple pie.