I spent a couple of decades being the leading lady; now I have a character role. It hurts to be downsized.
I know he's your husband now, but he's still my son.
You don't seem very confident about yourself. The littlest comment from me is taken as criticism, so I'm very careful what I say around you.
Every year, I send you a birthday present, but you never even pick up the phone to thank me.
We mothers say to our children, "I want you to be happy." And we mean that. What we don't say is, "But I would like to be happy too."
I've bought and sold 13 houses in my life. Why won't you ask for my advice?
When I visit you, I'm not coming for a white-glove inspection. I just want to see the family.
When I really want to talk to my son privately, I don't call your house. I call his mobile phone.
I'm so happy that you allow my son - your husband - to visit me on Mother's Day. I'm truly appreciative.
My dirty little secret: I'm afraid if I don't get this right, you'll cut me off.
I'm in competition with your mother. She takes you on vacations every year and buys things I can't afford.
Whenever I stay at your house, you always have my room ready, my towels everything. You do all the right things. I'm lucky to have you!
I cherish the refrigerator magnet you gave me: "Age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill."
Reader's Digest May 2009
