I am sitting outside under my white trash gazebo and wishing my girls were inside repeating last Sunday's brunch menu. There was hushed discussion, a semi-secret trip to the grocery store, and banishment from the kitchen culminating in the best meal a mom could have.
No stressful reservation-making or trying to decide whether I wanted to go sweet or savory. I had it all last Sunday: smoked salmon Benedict, home-made pop-tarts, perfectly crisp bacon, and Virgin Marys. When your kids have the kitchen chops to make a great hollandaise, they are also more than capable of doing the dishes.
My presents included a scented geranium plant, farm fresh eggs from Maddy's farm and a bagful of mint. Oh, and the absence of a chicken, because a live chicken(s) apparently didn't make the short list. The best present of all was their presence. We hung out all morning, reading the paper, doing the crossword, picking out boots and an anime convention dress for Sophie's birthday, and I crushed everybody at Bananagrams. And, no, they didn't let me win.