Our next Mother's Day memory comes from Noach Rosenberg.
Everywhere my family has lived—from Jerusalem to Far Rockaway—my mother has been famous for her cooking. I grew up hearing things like "your mother is the best cook ever!", and "You're so lucky to have a mother who cooks like that!" Friends who lived just a few minutes away would invite themselves over for meals, leaving their own mothers to wonder why their kids didn't like them anymore.
The only thing that's better than my mother's cooking is her baking. Whether she's baking double fudge cookies, cinnamon cake, or apple pie, when she's got that apron on, it's best not to wander too far lest there be nothing left when you return. In fact, desserts that she baked for Shabbos would often be gone well before the sun had a chance to fully set. It got so bad that she started hiding the goods all over the house, and being that she was up against the never-ending hunger of four "growing boys", she had to change hiding places often. My brothers and I would often team up for "dessert hunt," searching the entire living room, dining room, and even my parents' walk-in closet for her baking. If not for the impenetrable Tupperware containers that housed them, I'm confident that we would have smelled our way to her confectionery treasures more often than we can now claim credit for.
They say that youth is wasted on the young, but clearly, that's not always the case ...
Happy Mother's Day!