A disaster for mom, it is

My first official Mother's Day I asked to be left alone on a backyard lounge chair to soak up a cloudless sky and crisp copy of the latest Rolling Stone. I lasted all of two hours before the wails of a suddenly hungry 3-month-old got to me.

In the years since, my demands have grown grander. Nothing too extravagant, like diamonds or luxury hotels. But I do get to call the shots and do so with abandon some years. Today, however, I went easy on everyone.

If that nasty blister weren't still raw when I woke this morning, I'd be telling you about our climb up a local attraction best known for its rock climbing, Mount Woodson. Instead, I decided to ditch the hike and head to the movies to see Poseidon. I have this thing for disaster movies, no matter how campy or contrived. And this one seemed apropos, given my introduction to the genre began many years ago when my own mother took me to see The Poseidon Adventure back in 1972.

The day ended with Gilbert firing up the grill for the first time since last fall. The menu included my southwest rubbed chicken, Mexican rice and a pistachio pudding pie I whipped together. This was a much better gift than being left alone with a magazine.