All us guys (including the girls) went fishing early this morning, leaving the ladies to sleep as long as they want, undisturbed. A perfect mother's day in their eyes. We came home about 8-8:30, returning to our respective homes.
My wife was out like light when I peeked into the bedroom. Took the dog for a short walk, returned, made a pitcher of mimosas, set up the French press for coffee, prepared some fresh bought smoked salmon with scallion cream cheese on bagels, unwrapped some fresh bought smoked sturgeon, put it on a plate, and left her undisturbed. She woke about 9:30, I waited about 15 minutes and started heating water for the coffee, and prepared a pan for simple omelettes with goat's milk gouda. She came out of the shower wearing her new silk and cashmere robe, sat down at the table and said "now, you can serve breakfast." Not another word passed between us. She finished eating went back to bed, alone. I cleaned up, and kept the noise level down.
Sometimes, silence is the best gift. What goes on between a man and his wife is no one's business unless they want it to be. Some prefer their privacy.
Maybe this evening, before dinner, we'll call my daughters and daughter in-laws to wish them well, on their day. Maybe we'll wait until tomorrow. Meanwhile, my wife is watching TV, lying on the couch in her robe and knitting. That pitcher of mimosas is on the coffee table next to her with a half filled glass. She's happy with a smile on her face. I don't need to say a word to her. She knows where we are together.