Breakfast in Bed
Many years ago we spent a spring weekend with friends at their beach house a few hours from the city.
That Sunday was Mother’s Day and our young son and our hosts’ two young kids had planned a lovely surprise. Early that morning our bedroom door burst open and the three kids came in, our son balancing a large breakfast tray.
“Happy Mother’s Day!”, the trio chanted as they approached our bed.
”How lovely! Thank you!!” I exclaimed.
But the words were hardly out of my mouth when to the horror of my son and his friends the too-heavy tray he carried toppled, and a sticky mess of juice, tea, toast, and jam somersaulted onto the sheets.
And as is the wont of us mothers, I quickly turned from a feted celebrant to a consoler of children, a drier of tears, and a cleaner of spills.
And despite that minor mishap it was a lovely – and quite memorable – Mother’s Day!
– Dana Susan Lehrman
Dana Susan LehrmanThis retired librarian loves big city bustle and cozy country weekends, friends and family, good books and theatre, movies and jazz, travel, tennis, Yankee baseball, and writing about life as she sees it on her blog World Thru Brown Eyes!
www.WorldThruBrownEyes.com
Cute story, Dana. You are right – their hearts were in the right place and it was left up to the mother to clean up and console. That’s what we do.
Yes indeed Betsy, on Mothers Day and every day!
A perfect Mother’s Day—kids celebrating you, and you being the mother they needed and loved. And an event you all remember (and presumably laugh about) to this day. Cheers!
Yes Khati we laughed about it, but it must have been some mess to clean up, altho I’ve learned not to cry over spilled milk – or sticky OJ!
I can so readily visualize that second, in slow-motion time, as the tray arced outward and down….
Yes Dave, and can you imagine how sticky were those orange juice soaked sheets!
Your story certainly captures many aspects of motherhood. My granddaughter and her younger brothers plan to bake my daughter a cake. I’m sure it will be filled with lots of arguments. Still waiting for the picture (assuming anything was created).
Hope they made the cake and hope it was yummy!
I seem to remember a few similar instances from when I was the kid, the details of which I have blotted out. Oh, perhaps I was about 20 and I seem to recall yelling “oh, shit!” which kind of took away from the mood I was attempting to create with the wonderful breakfast plans.
Oh dear!