Runny Eggs and Burnt Toast on Mother’s Day


burnt toast“Shhh! You’re going to wake her up. It’s supposed be a surprise,” the oldest of my four kids ordered her siblings in a supposed whisper that carried through the house and into my second floor bedroom. The aroma of burnt toast soon followed and I knew that I was about to be served breakfast in bed – again – by four very proud children. And again I was going to have to eat as much of it as I could while assuring them it was delicious.

Of course it wasn’t. The eggs were slimy and undercooked. Half the toast was nearly incinerated and the rest floated in orange juice that had slopped over the edge of the too full glass on the way from kitchen to Mom.  A homemade card teetered upright on the tray next to a small vase of dandelions and lilies of the valley harvested from the back yard.  The pride shining on their eager faces as I took each bite meant everything to me. Runny eggs seasoned with love become palatable if not tasty.

Now that my children are grown and they, or their wives, have experienced their own Mother’s Day feasts they realize how bad the food was and how precious those memories are.

If these thoughts are bittersweet for you on Sunday because your mother can no longer recall your fledgling efforts in the kitchen Mother’s Day you might be able to share some very special moments together anyway.

Show her a Mother’s Day card you received and spend some time going through pictures taken when you or your children were eager to cook for mom on her special day.

Seeing photos of her mother as a young woman may trigger happy memories of her childhood that you haven’t heard before.

If you have a special memory of something silly happened on a past Mother’s Day, share that with her for sure.

And if you can’t think of anything amusing because you are feeling too sad here is a link to a very cute Mother’s Day tribute posted on YouTube by







2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. 20eagle16
    May 07, 2016 @ 10:12:27

    This is a wonderful story. This Mother’s Day will, indeed, be bittersweet, as my mom slips further into Akzheimer’s Disease. Thank you for reminding me that there were happy days.



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