I awoke early this morning hearing the scrabble of children outside the bedroom door. I rolled over in sleepy anticipation of the dulcet tones I would soon hear wishing me a happy mother's day. I knew this because there have been furtive whispers and secrets all week, and so it was that I was smiling when the door cracked open.
Mom, came the hoarse whisper - how sweet, they're trying to wake me gently - Mom....
Then the kicker....
The dog threw up in the middle of our bedroom floor.
Oh yay. Happy Mother's Day!
To be fair, it got much better. Andrew was working this morning, so I did not expect Breakfast in Bed. But that's what I got...My amazing, wonderful, fabulous, loving children (and I'm not just saying that because they're here reading over my shoulder) brought my breakfast up just before 7am. Grace and Anna brought up toast and (real) butter, some green grapes, and a singing Elvis mug*, while Erik - to his very great credit - figured out how to make coffee and brought it up in a thermos along with the milk jug.
It was the best breakfast ever!
*The singing Elvis mug was a gift from my parents who wintered in Texas and visited Graceland on the way home. My sister said they had to bring her and I something tacky from Graceland - that's where the mug came from. Elvis, singing Suspicious Minds. Nothing else would do for Mother's Day coffeee.