The Worst Mother’s Day Present Ever

Do you know what it feels like when I get served breakfast in bed? Go ahead. Take a guess.

I feel like I’m a patient stuck in a hospital somewhere. Seriously. That’s who eats breakfast in bed. The sick and the weak. Those individuals who have the means and desire to make sure their every need is met don’t have breakfast in bed. They may take it in the garden, or by the pool. If it’s a busy day, they may have to eat on the jet.

Heck, I don’t even want to put food in my mouth until I’ve stretched the sleep out of my arms and legs. And that’s impossible to do when you are straddled by a tray full of food.

All of this of course assumes that you have a sufficient quantity of pillows and a headboard of adequate height to even prop yourself up at an angle where you can eat without choking or spilling scrambled eggs down the front of your pajamas.

God help you if your darling children decide to send up anything with maple syrup. Crumbs on the bed are one thing. But if your comforter gets sticky, you’re going to have to wash that thing. And you can bet the kids won’t volunteer for that task. No way.

If you want to bring me a cup of coffee, a thermos of more coffee, the daily paper, and the peace and quiet to enjoy it all, now we’re talking a luxurious morning in the bed. But Father’s Day is weeks away.

Today is Mother’s day and the kids won’t be bringing their momma breakfast in bed. As a woman of impeccable taste, she has requested one of her favorite breakfast treats that she rarely gets to enjoy.

Donuts. Luckily, I know just where to get them.

Of course, there will also be all sorts of presents from the kids. And when I say presents I really mean crafts they made at school. Which are each very dear and each imbued with a lot of love. But they are also objects. And objects take up space, which isn’t ideal right now as we’re trying to get rid of stuff in preparation for the move to Jersey.

Naturally, at the end of the day I’ll make some kind of special dinner that Mrs. Fussy will love and the kids might hate. But hopefully the little ones will suck it up better today than in the past for the sake of the beloved mother.

My own mom also gets a terrible gift. Although she made it easy for me. I’m giving her just what she wanted. In the swirling mass of the madness that plans to be this summer, I am giving her a weekend where I abandon my wife and kids so that my momma can spend a couple of days with her “babies.”

Maybe when my own children move out of the house I’ll understand.

As far as I see it, that means I have an extension to write her a Mother’s Day card. Usually it’s something that I’ve done on the blog. But this year you’ve been spared.

To all of you other mothers out there, should your darling families try to serve you breakfast in bed this year, perhaps you find a way to forward this post as a gentle reminder that you have no desire to be bedridden. And if they think going out for some of the best donuts around isn’t quite special enough for you, hopefully they’ll learn the error of their ways.

Much like breakfast in bed, blowing 1,200 calories (or more) on a fancy brunch may seem like a good idea to kids and husbands, but sometimes the best treats are smaller indulgences. You know. Like a really great donut. Or time alone with the people you love.