Mothering Sunday

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

I know that Mothering Sunday is a pointless, meaningless commercial exercise, perpetrated by the evil geniuses at Hallmark, and therefore I should ignore it. As I said to my old mum only the other day: Every day is Mother's Day. (If I were American, I believe that would be described as a kiss-ass thing to say. Luckily, I am British.)

But you know what? Sod it. Sod them all if they can't take a joke. Let us let off fireworks. I think there should be a celebration, even if it has been hijacked by grasping florists and fiendish manufacturers of chocolates. MOTHERS - Happy Day. You are absolutely bloody marvellous. Everyone blames you for everything, especially Melanie Phillips and your own children, who are quite probably in league together. You are often accused of undermining the very fabric of society. You are told every day that all your choices are almost certainly wrong: too young, too old, too working, not working enough. As for you feckless teen mothers, stop breaking Britain NOW. There are no awards for mothers, no Oscars or Grammies. There is just The Guilt. Oh, and the lack of sleep.

I am going to take a wild stab in the dark and say that almost certainly, against all the odds, the mothers are doing a tremendous job. I salute you all. I especially salute my own mum, who has known a few dark nights of the soul in her time, and still manages to make me laugh.

In honour of the mothers of the animal as well as the human world, the pictures of the day are unashamedly adorable, so any cynics out there should just make their way calmly to the exit:

As Nancy Mitford would say: do admit.