Let her sleep in. Heck—sleep in yourself. Then it’s out to brunch.

I don’t like getting up early in the morning, and I can’t think about ingesting anything but coffee with a splash of milk until about 11am. I know that makes me sound spoiled, but it’s just the way it is. So when it comes to declaring brunch my favorite meal, there are two things that make it a very simple and obvious choice: I know what I like. And I know what I don’t like.

But it’s not just the endless eating options that excite me; it’s the whole idea of brunch. It’s the greasy breakfast burrito you have with your hungover friends after a late Saturday night on the town. It’s the childhood Grand Slams you ate at Denny’s with your family after church. Without the fanfare or formalities of a fancy sit-down dinner party, folks are freer to relax, to enjoy the act of eating, and visit just for the sake of visiting. Brunch is no less than a celebration of life itself.

My favorite meal has no set definition or rules, but it’s basically glorified breakfast, served sometime before dinner. Brunch fills the niche when people are hungry enough for lunch, but want substantial noshes that respect a still-sleepy stomach.

Timing-wise, it’s a perfect two-for-one meal. It doesn’t require waking up at the crack of dawn or competition with a tight weekday morning schedule. In my perfect weekend world, I like to rise at a civilized hour, take my time to embrace the day and beautify, then greet fellow brunchers, oh, around noon. Preferably with a Bloody Mary or mimosa in hand.

Brunch offers numerous edible options in an array of flavors. It’s pretty much mandatory that you must break each and every one of the food pyramid rules. Twice. In no other meal can you experience the juicy tartness of fresh fruit, the warmth of buttery, freshly baked cinnamon buns and biscuits and the satisfying richness of salty, sweet bacon. Chocolate chip pancakes piled high with whipped cream alongside a savory shrimp cocktail? Yum.

Familiar eye-openers like French toast and waffles, and less conventional fare like salmon croquettes, maple-glazed ham and my personal favorite, the L.E.O. (lox, eggs, and onions) all in one here-for-the-taking location. Mmm.

Red flannel hash, cheddar cheese grits, eggy stratas and sausage-studded breakfast casseroles. Eggs sunny-side-up, yolks runny, fried over low heat so the whites get a chance to cook properly. Be still my hungry heart.

The beauty is, you don’t have to commit to a main dish. And brunch is one of the few occasions where you can properly serve booze before noon. Throw a cocktail into the morning mix and you’ll have Aunt Ester waxing nostalgic about who-knows-what before you can pass a plate of buttered biscuits.

With Mother’s Day here, it’s prudent to recognize the central role this fine meal plays in typical Mother’s Day celebrations. I imagine it dates back to a time when moms were in charge of cooking for the family, and Mother’s Day was her one day of sweet, sweet freedom. Although modern day feminists of course oppose this rite, today even the moms who use their ovens strictly for storage look forward to an all-about-me day of being served. If you’re not up for cooking a brunch feast at home, take your mom on the town for a meal served even better by somebody else.

Take some time in picking a destination for a meal that conveys gratitude for your very being. Or at the very least says thanks for teaching me to eat with my mouth closed.

And when you’ve stuffed yourself until you can’t take another bite, brunch leaves plenty of time to nap afterward, then rise and take a nice long walk before getting ready for the second best meal of the day: supper.