Mother’s Day Tradition

Mother’s day rolls around and I dread

My child bringing me breakfast in bed

It is a sweet gesture and I should be thrilled

But the actual execution leaves me filled

With anxiety at the messiness that comes with it

Clearly in the traditional mold I do not fit

*

First of all, I have to keep up the pretense

Of being asleep when I am awake, of my child’s presence

In the kitchen I am acutely aware

I wonder what he is trying to prepare

And whether he is safe while doing so

Exactly how he is doing it I want to know

*

He brings the breakfast tray, and shouts excitedly

To wake me up and smile beatifically at me

(That is the best part, and that is why

The ritual continues, I cannot lie)

Now comes the part where I have to eat

Breakfast in bed without brushing my teeth

This is something I otherwise never do

Breakfast in bed seems unappealing because of this too

*

My son has really tried his best to prepare

What, according to him, is delectable breakfast fare

But my middle-aged body groans at the thought

Of eating the carbohydrate-laden breakfast that he has brought

He would be offended if I did not finish it all

But compared to a growing boy, my appetite is rather small..

*

I finish and make my bed, making sure there are no food crumbs in sight

Then I proceed to the kitchen where I find, to my surprise and delight

That my son has left it in a condition pristine

Turns out, I had underestimated his ability to keep things clean

Then again, the last time he did this was a year ago

He has had all of twelve months to mature and grow…

*

My heart fills with love, and I realize that this tradition

May soon be over for me and my son

What was I thinking when I said

That I did not want breakfast in bed??