No matter where you’re from or who you’re friends with, every group of friends has a designated mom. She’s the one who makes sure everyone is accounted for when leaving a party, the one who makes sure you don’t drink too much (or the one who holds your hair while you’re puking when you do), and she’s the person who will even come pick you up from your hookup’s place the next day and go buy Plan B with (or for) you. I am that person. No matter if I’m with my friends from back home or my sisters at school, I am always the mom. My pledge sisters don’t even refer to me by my name anymore, I’m just known as “mom.” And I am perfectly okay with that.
There are some people who might hate being labeled as the mom of the group. They take it as an insult as if someone was telling them they aren’t as fun as the rest of their friends. However, I actually love being the mom of my friend group. It makes me feel like I’m able to take care of not only myself, but also everyone else around me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty cool mom too. You want to dance on the table at the frat house? Be my guest, I’ll be there next to you to cheer you on, while simultaneously making sure you don’t eat shit. You feel like ripping six shots in a row? Fine by me, I’ll even take a couple with you, but you bet I’ll be the one carrying your drunken ass into bed. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of drunken moments, but when it comes to going out, I’d rather be the one taking care of my crying mess of a friend, than be her. It’s also a great feeling to know that your friends can rely on you to be there for them no matter what, whether they’re at their best or their worst.
Being the mom has also taught me quite a few things. The first is that I know I will make a kick ass actual mom someday. If I can get my puking, incoherent drunk friends to stop crying, then I can absolutely get my future children to do the same. The next thing I know is that I must have a pretty good memory if I can remember everyone’s drunken food order at every McDonald’s, Burger King, or Wendy’s we end up at after a night out. The last thing I’ve learned is how to be patient. It might take hours to get everyone together with all of their things to the car, but either way, it will be done. So if you are the mom of your friend group, embrace it and pat yourself on the back because your friends probably wouldn’t make it home in one piece some nights if it weren’t for you..
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