This morning at 6:45 am sharp, Nathan (along with his sister and sidekick Julia) brought me a fabulous breakfast in bed.
Every year, Nathan goes all out on this one meal, orchestrating as many of the other kids in the house as he can to participate in feeding me a breakfast fit for a queen. This year was no exception. I got sunny-side up eggs, some cereal, a banana with a generous amount of Nutella and a large cup of coffee. It was elegantly served and came with two handmade cards.
(Shhh … don’t tell Nathan, but the Nutella on a banana alone would have been more than enough to make me a happy mother. Actually, Nutella spread on just about anything would have brought a smile to my face. Come to think of it, just a jar of Nutella would be a fantastic Mother’s Day gift.)
Nathan and Mother’s Day Breakfasts go back a long way. He’s been serving me breakfast in bed since Mother’s Day 2009. That was the year I was the Blue Bandit, and I didn’t get to actually eat my breakfast in bed. The bitter truth is that year I didn’t even get to eat my breakfast at all.
It’s the Tale of the Blue Bandit Mother, which I shall gladly share with you now.
In 2009, I was a single mother, living alone and working hard to raise my three children. As Mother’s Day approached I prepared myself to be delighted with whatever smallish things my young children might make for me at school and not expect anything bigger. After all, my three children were all under the age of 8. They didn’t have the money or any way to provide me with a nicer sort of gift, so expecting bouquets of roses or wrapped presents wasn’t even on my radar.
Nathan, my middle child, was finishing up 1st grade that spring. During the week prior to Mother’s Day, Nathan made lots of hints at a special gift he was making for me at school. It was obvious that he was thrilled about whatever it was the class was making for their mothers.
On Friday afternoon, I picked Nathan up from school, while the two other kids stayed behind to ride home with their grandmother (who was a teacher at the school). Immediately, he thrusts a bag into my hands.
It was a decorated paper sack, made to look like a mother sleeping in a bed. “How sweet!” I smiled at Nathan as I gazed at his artwork.
“It’s supposed to be you,” he said very sincerely.
I looked again at the construction paper mother, noting the blue sleep mask, the bright red lipstick and the beautiful pink bow on top her head. I wondered where my boy ever got the idea that I sleep while wearing a sleep mask or a bow in my hair.
Turning the bag over, I saw a printed poem pasted neatly on the back:
Since it is your day,
I have something to say:
Don’t lift your head.
Have breakfast in bed!
Just take a look …
You don’t have to cook!
I don’t like to brag
But here is breakfast in a bag!
Happy Mother’s Day 2009
“Oh … look! There’s something inside.” I started to open the bag.
“It’s not for now,” Nathan said sternly. “It’s for Sunday morning. If you eat it now, you won’t have breakfast in bed anymore.”
“I wasn’t going to eat it now. I was just going to look. Can I please take a peek at what I get to eat for breakfast on Sunday?”
“I guess so.”
Reaching inside the bag, I found a granola bar and a juice box, along with another card.
“I made you an extra card because I finished my work early.” Nathan looked very pleased with himself over this fact. I immediately saw that he has used his extra-nice handwriting. The card had large letters across the top, spelling out the words: I’m multiplying my love for you! Underneath that, Nathan had written out a whole bunch of multiplication facts.
“Aw … that is a very sweet card! I love it! And I can’t wait to eat that granola bar on Sunday morning.”
“And the juice,” said Nathan.
“And the juice. Definitely the juice. I’m looking forward to the granola bar and the juice.” I smiled as I agreed with him.
Later that afternoon, I drove Nathan over to his art class. On the short car ride (which was literally all of five minutes), Nathan said, “Mom, I am really very hungry and thirsty.”
“Well, when you get to art class, you can have a drink of water.”
“I’m thirstier and hungrier than that. I feel like I’m going to faint!” Nathan closed his eyes, leaned back his head and clutched his stomach.
“Well, it’s the best I can offer you because I don’t have any snacks with me.”
Nathan raised up his head to stare at me in disbelief.Slowly he reached down by my purse, and gingerly picked up my Mother’s Day breakfast in a bag. With a sly grin, he said, “Maybe you could share your breakfast with me.”
Two minutes later, he was brushing off granola bar crumbs and sucking down the last of the juice box.
Even though I didn’t get to actually eat my first Mother’s Day Breakfast, I still cherish the bag, as well as the boy who made it … and continues to make me the most delicious Mother’s Day breakfasts.
“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.” ~Honore de Balzac”
May she who gave you birth be happy. ~Proverbs 23:25