Lakewinds Bakery

Imagine, for a moment, that you're five years old. After a busy morning in Kindergarten, you notice that your stomach is growling. It's time for lunch. Unless you brought food from home, you'll be eating what's served in your school's cafeteria. You get in line and grab a tray. You're barely tall enough to see the food behind the counter, and your teacher isn't there to help because she's having her lunch elsewhere. So when the lady wearing the plastic gloves asks you what you want to eat, you're not sure what to say. Then you might notice something familiar -- maybe a hot dog, spaghetti, or some chicken nuggets -- so you point to it and watch as it's placed on your tray.

I begin with a confession. I’m a mother and I don’t like Mother’s Day. There. I said it.

I know I'm not the only one. Admit it. You, too, think Mother's Day is another contrived holiday, a la Valentines’ Day, that pressures normally reasonable people to (a) buy silly, impersonal cards, (b) send pesticide-ridden flowers, (c) take their loved ones to crowded restaurants at odd times of the day because all the reservations at normal meal times (like before 10:00 p.m.) have been overbooked for six weeks.

Or (d) do something really outrageous, like make mom eat breakfast in bed.

Don't get me wrong. I love the original intent of breakfast in bed, but the right setting with the right company is crucial to its success. (Imagine, if you will, a romantic, lakeside inn; a bed pilled high with pillows, down comforters, and sheets I will never have to wash; and a passionate, pleasing and playful BFWB. You get the picture?)