You yawn and sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes as the light gently enters through the break in the curtains. The first thing you notice is that your husband, Arthur, is not in bed with you. That was strange as you’re usually the first one awake so that you can go downstairs to make him a cup of tea. Then there are the kids. Alfred is usually making a lot more noise by now and Mattie would probably have come in to see if you’re awake so he can come downstairs with you. The six year olds didn’t like to stay in bed on weekends, up early to play with their toys or draw – which is more like Mattie as he is way quieter than his hyperactive brother.
Suddenly there’s a crash from the kitchen, followed by your British husband’s voice saying, “Bloody hell, Alfred, will you be careful!”
“It was an accident!” comes your son’s response.
“Look, I’ll carry the tray,” Arthur said, and then you heard the door open.
“I’ll get the cards!” Alfred announces.
“Alfie, wait up!” Matthew calls, in a quieter voice. Two pairs of feet patter up the stairs followed by another pair, slower than the other two with a heavier tread. Arthur pauses outside of the room and waits for the kids to join him.
“Is she awake?” Alfred tries to whisper.
“Open the door and see,” Arthur replies. The door slowly creaks open and Alfred pops his head around the door, a giant grin on his face.
“Happy Mother’s Day!” he yells, pushing the door right open, flinging two cards to the floor at the same time, before running over and launching himself onto the bed. He crawls towards you and latches onto your arm, smothering your cheek with kisses.
You laugh, “Thank you, Alfie! Y’know, I completely forgot.”
Matthew comes over and climbs onto the bed, too, clutching his polar bear stuffed toy to his chest, and gives you a hug, kissing your cheek, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Thank you, Mattie!” you hug both of your boys and ruffle their messy hair, yet to be brushed. Finally, you turn to Arthur with a smile.
“Good morning, love. Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Morning, sweetie. And thank you.”
“Here we go. A cup of tea and pancakes,” he says, putting the tray on your lap and taking a seat on his side of the bed.
“We helped make the pancakes! Daddy was gonna burn ‘em,” Alfred tells you.
Arthur rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t that bad,” but then his voice reduces to a mumble, “At least pancakes come in packet mixes.”
You pour a little syrup over the pancakes and take a bite. Surprisingly, they taste very good. You nod in approval, “Seems my boys can cook. I wouldn’t trust you cooking a proper meal, but packet mixes are just as good.” You wink at your husband, whose cheeks go red. His cooking skills aren’t the best, especially baking.
“Alfred, you dropped the cards,” Matthew whispers to his brother as best he can.
“Ah! I’ll get ‘em, I’ll get ‘em!” Alfred scrambles to get off of the bed, climbing over Arthur’s legs, to retrieve the cards he flung into the air moments ago.
As he climbs back onto the bed and thrusts the cards in your direction, you take a sip of tea and say, “I’ll finish breakfast in a moment,” moving the tray onto the bedside table.
“Here you go! This one’s from me!” Alfred says, pointing to the top card in a pink envelope with the words ‘TO MOTHER’ written in giant capital letters on the front. As you open it up, you see Mattie out of the corner of your eye dipping a finger into the little pot of maple syrup.
On the front of the homemade card, Alfie has drawn you holding something resembling a frying pan in your left hand and a flower in your right. On the top, he has written ‘To the best Mama ever!’ You smile and open it up. Inside it simply says ‘To Mama, I love you lots and lots! From Alfie xxxxxxxxxx’
“That was lovely, Alfie,” you say, kissing his cheek. Mattie crawls forward a little and offers his card. The word ‘To the best Mama’ is written neatly. You pull out the card. Matthew has drawn you and him, a strip of green at the bottom for grass, a strip of blue at the top for sky and a yellow sun in the corner. Inside it says ‘Happy Mother’s Day, mama. I love you! Love from Mattie xxxxx’
“Thank you, Mattie. That was lovely, too,” you tell him, kissing his cheek too.
“Who wants to go and get your mum’s presents?” Arthur asks.
“Me!” Alfred and Matthew say at the same time, climbing down from the bed and running out of the room.
Arthur grins and leans forward to kiss you before producing a bunch of (favourite flowers) from underneath the bed, “And these are from me. I hid them there earlier. Happy Mother's Day, love”
“Oh, Artie, they’re gorgeous. Thank you,” you say, admiring the colour and fragrant smell. You kiss him again and wrap your free arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug, “I love you.”
“I love you too, darling. Now, I’ll go and put these in some water when the boys come back. God knows what they’ve done with the presents…”
“What are they?”
“Let’s just say Alfred stayed his usual self when choosing your present.”
“And you agreed to pay for it?”
He laughs, “It’s… Just… I don’t know. All I suppose I can say is promise you’ll wear the bloody thing.”
This is when the boys come back, each clutching a small gift. They put them on your lap and wait patiently for you to open them, Alfred nudging his towards you eagerly. You decide to open Matthew’s first as you opened Alfred’s card first.
Inside is a small locket that contains a picture of Matthew, Arthur and Alfred squashed up together.
“Mattie, it’s beautiful! Thank you, sweetie” you take your son up into a hug, him giggling as his arms wrap around you.
“I chose it,” he whispers into your ear.
“It’s really pretty. Thank you.”
Arthur helps you put it on before the second gift is shoved into your hands.
“I chose this one!” Alfred announces. You open it up, ignoring Arthur’s curious chuckles, and there’s a charm bracelet inside, silver with six silver charms hanging on it. The first charm is a flower, followed by a heart, a star, a bear and-
“These two are to remind you of me!” Alfred tells you.
This is the first time you have ever seen silver hamburger and French-fries shaped charms.

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Extended Ending

“It’s not that bad,” you say, spinning the charm bracelet around your wrist when your son is out of earshot.
Arthur snorts, “Of course it’s not. …If you’re expressing your love for fast food.”