Mothers Day

It wasn't going to take much to make this years mothers day better than last years.
Last year we had a long drive on the motorway the day before. During that trip I began to feel a little uncomfortable. The following day I had to pass up the breakfast in bed and the baby cuddles as I was enduring a very nasty bout of gastroenteritis. There's nothing that puts a dampener on your day more than that. I'd actually rather have a cold or even proper flu than have to dash to the loo twice an hour suffering with terrible cramps. Not even Imodium could help me.
This year.....
Ah! Two soft boiled eggs, cooked to perfection with some toast soldiers and one of those big things with the press down plungers full of fresh coffee. Now, I do know what they're called but I haven't a clue how you spell the name and all the spell check could suggest was "cafeteria". A cafeteria full of coffee is a lot more than I think is wise to be drunk in one go.
Two cards - one from my husband and one from my son, who I suspect had a bit of help to write his name.
The rest of the day I did precisely nothing. Well, that's the way it's supposed to go, isn't it? When it's mothers day I get the day off and believe me I will return the favour on fathers day. Joseph was cute, but then he does that all the time.
For dinner, Andy pulled out all the stops. We splashed out on a nice bit of lamb from the farm shop and he roasted it with spuds, roasted sweet potato, green veg and lovely lovely gravy. For pudding we had pancakes and there was a nice bottle of chianti to complement the meal. I made the usual joke about fava beans and having an old friend for dinner and Andy said he was disappointed that the wine hadn't got a rafia thing going on with the bottle.
Happy, full of food and relieved to be in a good state of health we settled down to watch the formula 1 highlights on the iPlayer.