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10 Reasons Why My Mom Deserves An Award for Dealing With My Sh**



When I was 12, she once got a guy who worked at the movie theater concession stand fired because he said to me, “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

Excuse me sir, but there are three types of pretzels to choose from here and I can’t decide if I want something sweet or salty.

In any case, it wouldn’t be the last time a man would say those exact words to me.


In fourth grade, my mother was called down to the school because my teacher had intercepted a note I had written to a girl in my class.

The letter went as follows:

“Dear ________, you are ugly and can’t even dance. Good luck getting someone to go to the dance with you on Friday.”

I wish I was joking.


My mother is the only person who hears my singing voice without cringing.

Even when I sing Whitney.


When I was six, I would spend countless hours singing to the Hercules soundtrack and reenact the opening scene in “The Prince of Egypt” singing the part of Moses’ mother.

I would make my little sister pretend to be baby Moses so I had reason to wrap her up in a blanket, place her in a basket, and pray that someone would take her away.


When I was in first grade, she received a call from my teacher because I was kicked out of class for dancing during story time.

In my defense, it was a story involving hula dancing and I felt like it was my duty as a Hawaiian to perform for my fellow students.

I also wanted to catch the eye of a boy in my class.


I told her I wanted to be a black belt. I got Tae Kwon Doe lessons.

I made it to blue and then hundreds of dollars later I said, “I’M OVER IT.”


She didn’t even know I could act but she showed up to my first ever high school theater performance freshman year.

She also had no idea that there would be a scene in which I would be wearing a toga.


I told her I was going to compete in a male pageant at my high school.

She was the loudest one in the audience.


This picture:


My mother is my greatest supporter, even when I am wrong. She fights to defend me even when she knows I’m out of line. She listens to me cry about the stupidest things. She offered to completely support me so I could quit serving and become an actor.

My mom and I may be the same person, with the same sass, the same spunk, and the same attitude, but we love each other mostly because we understand each other.

And that’s the scariest part of it all.

Because she’s always known, just how much I want to set the world on fire.

Happy Birthday Mom!

xoxo Robby Rob



  1. Alex Stevens says

    This is hilarious and beautiful. You’re lucky to have such a fantastic mother. 🙂

  2. Pingback: 8 Reasons Why My Dad is a BOSS | Diary of a Gay Spinster

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