Date Published: 06-Apr-2011

When the gardaí announce a bank holiday crackdown on drink driving or speeding, there’s a train of thought that suggests this conversely implies there’s a more relaxed approach to checkpoints on ordinary weekends – when of course nothing could be further from the truth.

But the same debate could relate to Mother’s Day – or for that matter Father’s Day or Valentine’s Day – as though there’s only one day in the year when you have to be nice to them. And a bunch of flowers or a bottle of bad after shave allowed you to behave like a moron for the others 364 days of the year.

Of course – with the obvious exception of a garda drink driving clampdown – these are entirely artificial concoctions designed to further the sale of cards and flowers. And we’re eejits for falling into the trap.

You pay the price of a small house for a bunch of roses on February 14 when the same bunch is available for a fraction of that in the forecourt of your average petrol station two days later.

You can buy a three foot card for your mother than tells her you love her and treasure her in a language you wouldn’t use if you were delusional or on heavy drugs, when it reality a cup of tea in bed or a go of the remote control for the telly would have a greater impact.

The only cards that are saved in our house are the ones drawn by little hands and featuring stick insect parents in green crayon – not the all-singing versions that look like they could take on a life of their own.

Flowers are something that miraculously grow in the garden; they are not to be purchased and brought home because, if you were seen coming up the road with a bouquet of roses, you might as well go the whole hog and tattoo ‘guilty’ in big black letters on your forehead.

Meals out should be eaten because you’re hungry or spontaneous – not because Mr Hallmark decided that last Sunday was the day you should dine with your mother, implying that she should be thrilled to have one day off a year from the cooker.

We all get sentimental at different times in our lives and make promises that we’d never have ever dreamed of in the cold light of day.

When our eldest was born, for example – and he now looks forward to revelations about his young life in this column every week, in the way that turkeys look forward to Christmas – I distinctly remember promising to never fight with my exhausted wife again.

And in fairness I think we’ve only had one disagreement since – trouble is, it has lasted 13 years.

But we’re all vulnerable when the ads suggest that this would be the perfect time to show your mother or father you love them by buying a huge card which you must then post to them for the price of a small country’s GDP even though you still only live down the road.

We must stand firm and refuse to conform; we can buy cards or flowers or chocolates any other day we want to during the year. We can eat dinner until we burst, and we can pop champagne like we were Seanie Fitzpatrick – just not on the day that we’re told to.

You should love your spouse, parents, children or dog every day of the year in the same way that, if you take a chance on drinking and driving, you should anticipate meeting a garda around every corner at any hour of any day or night.

So forget these concocted celebrations that are little more than marketing opportunities to flog greeting cards – because when it comes to showing how much you care, one day should never be enough.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.