I'm sitting here on my bed on a warm (soon to be hot) Sabbath morning. Listening to my four month old coo, and the three and five year old conversing in the shower (nicely nontheless). We just finished breakfast in Mommy's bed, a Sabbath morning tradition that no one in this household would dream of getting rid of. It often results in needing to change the sheets before sleeping in the bed again, but it's a small price to pay for the joy of having everyone in my bed for breakfast.

When I was a child, we would climb into my parents' bed for the occasional ticklefest or a Sunday morning wake up of my parents. After the Northridge earthquake, my sisters slept in my parents' bed for several weeks. Even now, we climb up with our children in tow to chat with my parents late at night. But I don't ever recall eating breakfast in bed with my mommy.

My parents have a California King sized bed, which is why three generations of people can still hang out on it when necessary. My parents crawl into bed and don't see eachother again until morning. Our bed on the other hand is a full size bed, otherwise known as a double bed. Some would argue that it's size is barely sufficient for two people, much less a family of five having Sabbath morning breakfast in bed. But the tradition lives on! It keeps us close, literally.