Coffee Tea and Dread

Mothers Day morning and we are off to the races.

The kids would like to continue the tradition of having brunch at a local restaurant which is better known as a pub. They do have a grand spread for brunch on certain occasions and this is what the kids have come to associate with Mothers Day. A sumptuous buffet replete with fatty breakfast meats, greasy fried potatoes, rubbery pancakes, ordinary tasting pastry and made to order omelets. Let's not forget the Eggs Benedict with the Hollandaise that rarely convinces me that it is fit for human consumption.

I fill Scott in on the plan. He is game. God love him. He has no clue what he's in store for.

My son drops the first round of bacon on the floor and we tell him to pick it up. What he hears is not "pick it up so no one slips on it" but "pick it up and eat it." I am cringing already and repeating "Five second rule...five second rule..." over and over again to try to push the thoughts of the beer muck and shoe crud from my head.

My daughter orders an omelet and her plate is perilously close to giving way to an avalanche by the time she's surrounded it with pastry, mini muffins, pound cake, potatoes and sausage links.

Scott is still a sport as he swoafs down what items he can stomach from vast selection of artery clogging treats.

We guzzle coffee and I am given lovely gifts and cards. I am beaming. It is a lovely day. We take a long walk at a state park that I have been jonesing to show Scott.

And then Scott must go. His girls are with their mother and he has to get them.

And what I'd most like to do once he's left is pretend I have no laundry to do or dust bunnies to sweep and just take a nice nap with the windows open and the May breeze coming in.

So that is what I do - while my children play video games and plot and scheme the perfect dinner for me to prepare us.

But I awaken with a sense of dread. The day is wearing on...and I have to face the music.

I look at my phone for a long time and then finally dial.