The sound of a pan being banged on top of the cooker was the final straw. At the impassioned insistence of her husband to "stay in bed, you deserve a rest", she had agreed to have a bit of a lie-in. The last twenty minutes, however, had brought about a variety of crashes and banging that alerted Shelagh to possible disaster in her kitchen.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she shrugged on her dressing gown and opened the door only to be stopped in her tracks by her daughter.
"No! The boys said you're not allowed to come out."
"Angela? What are you doing?"
The four year old looked up at her mother before returning to her task. "Coloring."
"I can see that. I mean why are you coloring outside Mummy and Daddy's room?"
"Timmy said I had to be the guard." She responded proudly.
Shelagh knelt down to her daughter's level.
"Do you know why?"
"Yes...because Daddy says I'm a good distraction."
Shelagh laughed. "Yes you are. But do you know why I'm not allowed out of my room?"
"Because the boys said so." Angela answered, giving her mother a shrug before returning to her coloring book.
"Well then," Shelagh said as she stood up. "I guess I'll be going back to bed. Do you want to come and have a cuddle?"
Angela looked up with a smile and ran past her mother, jumping into the bed and waiting for Shelagh to join her before snuggling against her side under the covers.
Ten minutes later, they heard murmured voices from outside the door.
"Angela!?" Patrick whispered loudly. "Tim, go see if she's in her room."
"We're in here!" Shelagh called out to her boys as Timothy and Patrick opened the door bearing trays of breakfast and tea.
"Ange, you were supposed to be outside!" Tim exclaimed as he placed his tray down on his father's bedside table.
"You said I had to keep guard! You didn't say I had to stay out there!" Came the four year old's aggravated response, hands going to her hips.
"What is all this?" Shelagh cut in, trying to stem the argument she could see brewing between her children.
"Mummy, don't you know what today is?" Angela asked, excitedly.
"Sunday..."
"Shelagh, love. We go through this every year."
Shelagh smirked at her husband. "I know...I just never want to expect anything. We're all so busy-"
Tim shook his head at her. "Mum, we're never too busy to remember today."
"Happy Mother's Day, Mummy!" Angela cried, throwing her arms around Shelagh as Tim joined them on the bed.
"Thank you, darling. Thank you, Timothy." She watched as her husband say at her feet, placing her breakfast tray onto her lap.
"Now, the most important question: who made the breakfast?" She glanced between her husband and son, the latter or whom was smirking.
"Timothy did." Patrick said, a bit crestfallen.
"Well, couldn't force you to eat Dad's cooking on Mother's Day, could I?"
