Like it or loathe it, it’s Mother’s Day on Sunday (reminder #23 to my Craigy). Like Valentine’s Day you’ll get the odd whinge on Facebook about how it’s just another Day of Commercialism designed to encourage our testosterone-fueled partners to walk among nauseating pink and red aisles of flowers, cards, chocolates, and other tat in Tesco.

But it’s so much more than that.

When you become a parent you come to realise how lovely it is to get a day of thanks, just for you. A day where your other half is guaranteed to get up with the kids at first light and you can lie in bed and smile at the tell-tale distant noise of teacup-bashing-teapot and just know that breakfast in bed is on its way. That’s all we need really. Maybe a single daff stolen from the roundabout at the end of the street, maybe a handmade card so covered in glitter and glue you find yourself still brushing the pesky stuff off your cheeks weeks later…

That is all it takes to make us happy. It’s the thought that counts, and definitely not the money spent.

It’s this kind of approach that Paperchase have so cleverly depicted in their #ImpressMum campaign. You might have seen the advert. It begins with an introduction to three big tattoo-clad, Burberry-wearing, Cockney-accented men lulling you into thinking you’re watching a trailer for My Big Fat Chavvy Boyfriend. Then the music changes and we watch them gush over glitter pens, synthetic fluff and cut-out flowers. The juxtaposition is so endearing you find yourself wanting to rush to Essex and find your own Ray Winston lookalike.

The best bit is watching them hand over their creations to their mothers. One mother utters “What am I gonna do with this? Where am I going to put it?” which completely resonates with my own attitude to 90% of Dexter’s artwork; All of it is carefully sifted through with some escaping the bin and finding their way onto the fridge for a few weeks. Another mum asks “Is that it?” with raised eyebrows and a bemused look on her face that barely conceals her delight. Mum #3 goes all teary-eyed and thanks her son with a “Good boy. You’re a good boy” that I doubt has changed in tone since her son was 5 years old.

It’s genius.

And just in case your husband or partner is having a mini tantrum that it’s all about you, exercising his bottom lip and spouting off something ridiculous about inequality among the sexes, there’s Father’s Day for Him too. Let’s see if the same back-to-basics approach manages to #ImpressDad.

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