I’m ending our Mother’s Day tradition
Every year my husband and kids make me Mother’s Day breakfast in bed, delivered bright and early at 6:55 am (UGH). I love seeing my kids’ adorable faces as they sneak up to the bed to surprise me (little do they know their clanging and banging woke me up ages ago). I love cuddling with them as I choke down half-cooked, snot-infused pancakes. I love their attempts to behave for three minutes to make my day special.
What I don’t love, however, is coming downstairs, walking into the kitchen and—HOLY HELL—witnessing the bomb that went off when they “cooked.” The kitchen always looks like the aftermath of a frat house food fight. There is pancake batter all over the stove and floor. Spilled milk on the counter. Strawberry stems and banana peels strewn all over. It looks like a raccoon broke in and had a hankering for pancakes.
And guess who always has the pleasure of cleaning up this mess? You got it, the lady of the hour, aka ME.
So this year I’m going to break some hearts. I’m going to put an end to a family tradition. I’m going to demand (er, I mean ask) for a Mother’s Day brunch OUT. I’m instituting a NO COOKING ON MOTHER’S DAY rule. Because all I really want is one day, one single day, where I don’t have to clean. Where I don’t have to wash a dish or handle a sponge. A no-cleaning Mother’s Day. That’s what I want.
Haha! Next year send him a link to my article on great mother’s day gifts – he can choose some from there! 😉
Hahahahaha I absolutely LOVE this!!!! 😀 <3
Thanks so much!!