Mother's Day came quickly this year, just 2 weeks after getting back from our honeymoon. It should be no surprise then that my breakfast request was pineapple pancakes with passion fruit coconut syrup. Insanely sweet and completely ALOHA!
It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags!
My husband (I love saying that!), who usually goes above and beyond for special occasions, kept apologizing over and over about not having any cards or gifts for me this year. Given that we're not even unpacked yet, I didn't expect or even really want to do anything. I was perfectly happy to spend the day in the backyard planting the garden and pulling weeds.
After a respectable amount of time spent gardening, I popped into the kitchen to sneak out the secret yellow sphere of sunshine called lunch that waited for me in the frig. A lemon tart. Not just any tart, a perfectly smooth custard with just the right balance of sour to cut through the richness of a buttery crust tart from Beaverton Bakery. At that moment it wasn't just a sunny spring day, I was summer - sticky, sweaty, and sweet.
I didn't have to deal with kids, cleaning the house, or cooking. Dinner was chosen for the yellow-orangy goodness of a blooming onion, the only redeeming aspect of an otherwise unremarkable restaurant. And after hearing the only 6 year old boy who would ever say, "MFK Fisher would go for a walk after eating," we went for family walk around the neighborhood duck pond. (It's hard to tell, but the mother duck is sitting on 3 baby ducklings.)
So when my husband (love it!) apologized about not having any presents again, I told him to stop. To quote the Grinch, "Maybe Mother's Day doesn't come from a store. Maybe Mother's Day...perhaps...means a little bit more!"