On the eve of Mother’s Day I bring you a 2007 Mother’s Day memory, Shhh it’s a Secret.

I live in a house with two people who cannot keep a secret to save their lives. Should the CIA get a hold of them, they both would spill the beans about any top secret mission they were on before the agents could whip out their secret agent badges.

On Thursday there was a long conversation in the car between Zoe and my husband regarding NOT leaking any Mother’s Day information to me.

On Friday I came home from work and was instructed NOT to look in the back of my husband’s car because my present was in there. He drives a Mazda Tribute and the windows are tinted, so I would have had to press my face to the window in order to see what was hidden inside, and while I’m not above doing that, I resisted the urge.

On Saturday morning my husband blurts out the following, “you need to act surprised tomorrow because Zoe picked out the most beautiful hanging flower basket.” I still don’t know why he told me this, maybe he sensed that the CIA was on their way over to the house to interrogate him and felt that if I knew this information I could stop them before they got up the driveway.

It’s a hanging flower basket! It’s in the back of the Mazda! Please leave my husband alone!

About 30 minutes later Zoe is asking me what my favorite topping is, because she’s going to put it on my Mother’s Day surprise.

Chocolate jimmy sprinkles.

Uh, mom, that wouldn’t be good on this.

And then she whispered in my ear that her and dad were going to make me toast for breakfast and I could choose between butter or cinnamon. But don’t tell Dad, it’s a surprise.

Twenty-four hours later, I’m snug in my bed, I mean in Zoe’s bed because she snuck into my bed in the middle of the night and I was too smooshed between her and my husband, so I moved to her bed. I can hear the conversation in the kitchen as they are whipping up my breakfast, she wants to serve it to me in bed, and he wants to serve it at the dining room table.

Zoe came into the bedroom and told me that my breakfast was ready, I couldn’t eat it in bed because it would be too messy. But I could go eat it in my bed.

At her resistance I ate at the dining room table, where I was served orange juice, bacon, french toast, and a fresh cup of coffee. I got the entire newspaper all to myself too. The flowers are beautiful, and Zoe also gave me a glass globe to hang outside in the flower beds.

To all the mom’s out there, Happy Mother’s Day!