If you’re the first-time dad of a new(ish) child, which mom owns the day? Your wife, your lifemate, who is exhausted in ways she never thought possible? Or your own mother, with whom you’ve been having celebratory breakfasts every May for 40 years?

Sometimes it is possible to keep everyone happy, and this weekend was one. Partly because (thank heaven) both the mothers in my life had simple requests.  My wife is not one for a big Mother’s Day present–in fact, she specifically told me to stick to child-produced art, beginning next year, when crayons will likely replace tomato sauce as his chosen artistic medium. My mother has also specifically told me the same–that she can do without material presents, and that what she really wants on any given weekend is lots of time with her grandkid.

So our present to the grandmother was a full weekend at home with her grandson, which drove her nearly giddy with joy. And she in turn gave my wife a spectacular gift: an extra two and a half hours’ sleep on Sunday morning, while she dealt with the breakfast shift. Everybody wins! Particularly me, because I got a free ride on the extra-sleep train.