Moms are so embarrassing.

 A smatter of applause and a hoot
a head whip and an emphatic shake, NO.

No medal?
Last place?
Silent role?
Ensemble singer?

You're still my favorite
athlete—performer—student.
A star? To me, you are.

The courage to step up to the plate
knowing you might miss,
the valor in stepping into the light
though your voice might crack,
the absolute guts to place your feet in the block
when you know you'll cross the finish line alone?

That's why I praise and applaud.

To try and fail,
To care and just be average—
it's no small feat.

So know that your biggest fan
thinks you're amazing.

But she won't clap anymore, nor hoot.

Moms are so embarrassing.