Posted By admin on May 13, 2013
Last night we had a yummy dinner at our favorite Japanese restaurant, and I’m swamped in beautiful bouquets and chocolates and loving, lovely cards. (One plays “Tequila!” Which always makes me want to dance!) I cannot resist stopping to breathe in the carnations. The scent brings back my own mom and the days I spent, standing beside her, chattering away about who knows what, while she watered the flowers that grew for her simply because she wanted them to grow.
Dinner was yummy and too filling and the leftovers are waiting in the fridge.
But let me tell you about breakfast.
We got up at about 9-ish and debated where we wanted to go. Good thing we didn’t debate too long….
By the time we reached our choice, there was a line down the sidewalk and no room inside to wedge in and add our name to the all-day waiting list. So we tried our second choice. Same thing. At the third choice, the line wound around the building so we just drove on past.
We took a mental survey of what we’d left in the pantry at home. The beloved makes the world’s absolute beyond best breakfast-y fried potatoes, so we stopped in at WalMart to shop. Well, my girl was starving. As my cousin says, this offspring is like those Snicker’s commercials. The girl is not the girl when she’s hungry.
We closed in on those self-opening doors, and the lovely blue foyer and the carts–and the fragrance of the in-store McDonald’s. My girl’s mood lightened. After the breakfast tour of our little town and the next one over, I was up for sampling the wares, too. We voted.
The beloved said, “No.” And he sounded as if he meant it. (He may have taken some grief on my first Mother’s Day–two weeks after our son was born. “Oh. I forgot you were a mom.”)
But, come on. The girl had scented welcome relief, and she could not approve of a half hour drive home and the wait while we toiled over the tools of the kitchen. So–we asked if he truly wanted to cook.
End result: Yesterday, I had Mother’s Day breakfast at McDonald’s. In a WalMart. As a little crunchy icing on the cake–an eggshell in my Egg McMuffin. And the best time with my girl and my husband.
Two final points–I hope it’s not a bad sign for McDonald’s that we had our choice of breakfast tables! And I believe they make my favorite coffee in all the world. In fact, right now, I’m on my way to seek out a vat of McDonald’s coffee, and I hope every other mom in the world had a breakfast as lovely as ours!
P.S. I honestly always assumed they used those liquid eggs at McDonald’s. They do not!