POWER PLAY: MOTHER'S DAY ONLY A HALLMARK HOLIDAY

Let me preface this column by saying that I do indeed love my mother.

Moms are wonderful things and everyone should have at least one. Even after you're grown up, they can still be counted on to spoil you just as much as they did when you were a kid.

And they make the best eats. Everything tastes better when cooked by a mom.

However, moms do come with some downsides, and one of the biggest is the skillful manner in which they can use guilt as a weapon.

Everyone with a mom knows about this. They feign that hurt look with their eyes and get a sorrowful sort of tone in their voice and make us feel like hateful, rotten children who are breaking their poor mothers' hearts, even when we're right. There being no defense against this tactic, we immediately yield and agree to do their bidding.

The most annoying aspect of mothers are the so-called "helpful" little comments they can't resist making concerning how much you are screwing up your life.

Mine always harps on me for not yet having found a nice Catholic girl with whom to settle down and marry. Her editorial comments concerning my love life are rarely constructive.

What's worse, though, is when she meddles.

A few years ago, I had a very close female friend whom my mom absolutely adored. Although the relationship was strictly platonic, Mama-san was undeterred in her efforts to make a match. Once she even went as far as telling the girl in front of her boyfriend -- also one of my best friends -- that she should break up with him and go out with me.

At that point we broke out the tranquilizer darts and further disaster was avoided.

The positive contributions of mothers, however, make these things tolerable. Especially the way in which they forgive us when we do even stupider things.

My mom is coming to visit Sunday, which means I will have to spend any free time this weekend in an extended cleaning session.

As a bachelor, I do not have the neatest of domiciles. I maintain a certain level of cleanliness -- no fungal growth or three-meter deep layers of dust, and dirty dishes are washed at least once every 18 months -- but that level certainly is not up to Mom Standards, which are considerably more exacting.

Also, I never put anything away, leaving every available centimeter of floor, counter and table space strewn with shoes, clothing, musical instruments and everything else I own. Whenever I put things away, I can never find them. I like to keep it all in plain sight.

This sort of thing horrifies moms, who feel that everything has its place and should be put there. Explanations that the floor, dresser or coffee table is where we keep things are never accepted.

The supposed purpose of her journey is to celebrate my upcoming birthday. But she knows darn good and well that Sunday is Mother's Day. Mom's are not stupid.

I will, of course, get her a gift, one of those little Precious Moments statuette things, which is what I get her for every holiday that requires purchase of a present. I know it lacks creativity, but she likes them so all is well.

The whole Mother's Day thing, however, is a scam. I'm not saying mothers aren't deserving -- they most certainly are -- but it isn't a real holiday.

Mother's Day is yet another one of those pseudo holidays concocted by greeting card manufacturers.

While it has caught on more than some of those other false holidays like Secretary's Day or Convicted Felon's Day, it still does not meet the requirements to make it a legitimate holiday.

To meet such standards a would-be holiday must commemorate either some religious event or the birthday of some dead but once politically powerful figure or give government workers an excuse to have a three-day weekend. Mother's Day is none of those.

The really puzzling thing is that moms expect their husbands to give them Mother's Day gifts as well. Why? They are not their mothers. Just another one of those incomprehensible things about marriage, I suppose.

But whether it's a legitimate holiday or not is really irrelevant. We -- and our dads -- have no choice but to commemorate it.

We don't want to face the Guilt Treatment.

Marc Powers is a copy editor for the Southeast Missourian.