QUENCHed
My idea of Mother's Day means doing exactly and only what I want "Cause I'm the Mama that's why". I don't mean to sound ungrateful but I have suffered through my share of poorly executed breakfast eggs by a thoughtful wunderkind who doesn't even eat eggs much less know how to prepare them to put either of us through that anymore. So for the last half dozen years or so, it has become a tradition that my BFF, Sandy, and I spend Mother's Day without the kids. That way we enjoy a great meal where we don't have to consider immature, finicky palates nor food allergies (both of us have offspring with shellfish/fish intolerances), nor eye rolling teens peeping our bar tab like they are AA sponsors. We've had more laughs than food as a sextet at the Melting Pot when half the Moms were appalled that we basically paid to cook our own meals; thought we were in the company of whirling meat dervishes, albeit a studly group, at Fogo de Chao; and explore