In Your Room

Well, The Bangles week concludes with what is probably the most inappropriate song to ring in Mother’s Day weekend ever. Let’s try to forget that it’s all about hanky panky, and focus on the thing that really matters: breakfast.

Sure, there are some families who go out for Mother’s Day Brunch. I’m not entirely sure what to make of those people. It’s like going out for Valentine’s Day Dinner, but with your entire family. Actually, Mother’s Day Brunch might be worse, because they are generally all-you-can-eat buffets.

Ugh. My stomach starts to ache just thinking it.

I’ve been to some pretty opulent Mother’s Day Brunches in my time. The one at the Fountainbleu Hotel in Miami really made an impression on me as a young kid. Just rooms and rooms of food. Now, I find it more than a little bit sickening.

But for those who do not go out to brunch, Mother’s Day can mean breakfast in bed. Because apparently someone at some point thought that getting to eat in your room was a special kind of treat.

It’s hard to decide which one is worse. Does anyone actually enjoy breakfast in bed? This sounds like something you do if you’re in the hospital, and lack the mobility to get around on your own.

At least in the hospital, the beds are up for the task. The whole back of the bed tilts up to nearly a right angle. There’s a sturdy tray table that floats above your lap, and not on it, so that nothing is likely to spill. And should something spill, fresh sheets and robes are readily available.

I’m not sure what the goal here is supposed to be.

Is it to treat the mother of the household like a princess? Because the last I checked, princesses don’t really do buffets. And I can’t imagine that a princess would choose to take her first meal on the bed in which she just slept.

Seriously, after a good night’s sleep who really wants to stay in bed?

Sure, I get it. We’re far too often sleep deprived. Getting up can be hard. Especially in winter when it’s cold outside, or if the furnace hasn’t kicked on for one reason or another. But Mother’s Day is in the spring. It’s lovely out. The sun is up early. The birds are chirping. The whole earth is alive and beckoning you to come join the fun.

After a long, restful sleep, when the morning comes I actually want to get out of bed. Especially if I’m not on the hook for household responsibilities.

I mean, some fun things can happen in bed, but not when there are kids around.

Let’s be clear about something. There’s nothing wrong with having a fancy breakfast, or even a home cooked one that’s decidedly less fancy. If it were my call, I would make the mother of the house her favorite breakfast foods, and serve them to her at the table.

Maybe with her family. Maybe by herself. I think it depends on the mother and what floats her boat. I know that once upon a time I used to love sitting down to a proper breakfast with the morning newspaper, and a lot of coffee. Alone.

If someone went out early, picked up the Times, and made me some coffee, poached eggs, and wheat toast, that would be amazing. What would be even more amazing is if they all then left the house and let me eat it in peace and quiet.

But that’s me. I’m not the mother. My day comes later.

Are you the mother? In your heart of hearts what do you want on Mother’s Day? Nothing about the customs of this holiday make any sense to me. Tell me, and I promise not to judge. Even if you really have your heart set on a massive buffet of steam tray eggs, and pans of trout almondine that have been sitting out a little too long. If you do happen to enjoy breakfast in bed, maybe you have some tips to share that make it a more pleasant experience.

Mrs. Fussy has figured out a way to avoid being “treated” to the experience. She wakes up early and goes for a run.

Still, I’m sure any tips would be greatly appreciated.