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Thoughts on Labor Day and A Cocktail Recipe from The Authors of Reasons Mommy Drinks

Mommy would rather not commemorate labor, thank you very much

By Lyranda Martin-Evans and Fiona Stevenson

LABOR DAY.

What an odd thing to celebrate. Labor. Mommy really has no interest in reliving the agonizing hours spent ripping in half, thank you very much. (Yes, yes, Mommy knows this holiday dates back to the 1880s celebrating the worker, but isn’t that what giving birth is? SO. MUCH. WORK.) This first Monday of September signifies the end of summer, which, previous to becoming a Mommy, was devastatingly sad. Now Mommy can celebrate the end of bikini season! Or tankini season, thanks to a linea nigra that never went away. Sigh. Mommy makes a mental note not to dress you in white now. Ha ha ha! Just kidding. Mommy hasn’t put you in white since the spaghetti sauce incident at Applebee’s. In the near future, when you reach your tender grade school years, this day will be The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, if the ever-running Staples campaign has taught her anything. Parents of school-aged children, after being held hostage for the last two months, live for this day. For now, she’s just grateful she can wear decorative scarves and calf-high boots that hide everything. And that she’s not exploding with pain on a birthing ball.

DRINK: The Labor Day Classic. 1 oz white rum, 1/3 cherry liquor, topped with grapefruit juice and a splash of lime juice. Raise a glass to your own labor, because no matter how it went down, you are a hero.

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