Author's Notes: I have no idea what possesed me to write this. Aeron, Iain, Sean, Patrick, Akshaya and Michael belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them... Not that Iain or Akshaya appear much, anyways... I own Norway, Denmark and Iceland's names.

Happy Mother's Day

There was only one day the personification of England had learned to hate more than his designated birthday. The day, though lately it seem like a month really, was usually predated by numerous ex-colonies irrupting in his house during the week prior to the event, causing Wales to complain loudly at the amount of visitors. He had long associated the sound of firecrackers, fist fights, broken china,quarreling pets and the odd explosion to the fourth Sunday of Lent.

"Come on mother." It seemed Alex had been charged with distracting him this year, New Zealand's deadpan expression at odds with the chaos around them. "Uncle Aeron has made us a list."

And what diversion had the nations planned for their ever loving mother you ask? Why, buying every know kind of food known to humankind to feed them. Given the fact they came from all over the globe, and one unwilling guest from out, it would only take the two males most the day to acquire the items of the list. It was a fact well known to England, but trying to refuse would only make the process more painful to himself.

After spending more hours that they cared to think about in different food shop around the city, the two nations decided to collapse in a small cafe that Arthur liked to frequent. "Why do we have to buy a ton of hamburgers? At least we found the five new sodding china sets."

"Mom, may we visit the bookstore before returning home?" Arthur nodded, having the same love for reading that the younger male did. "...any idea where we can dump the truck?"

"We will just left it in the parking lot and take the bus I think." There was no way they could find a parking space at this hour.

So the two nations left, much happier now than they didn't have to worry about Iain's old truck. Arthur had been tempted to hand it to Patrick and have him smash it against a wall more than once, but he didn't want to deal with the nation's cries over his beloved vehicle for it. At least the thing still, more or less, worked.

It was almost five o'clock when the pair returned home, exhausted and more than a little cranky. The smell of hamburgers had gave Arthur a headache, the traffic only adding to it. Both nations only wanted to return home and collapse in to whatever flat surface was free for their use, be it the couch, a bed or the bloody floor if it came to it. But England knew that as soon as he returned home he would have to deal with whatever mess the sprogs had made of it.

"Hey! Mom's back!" Fiji shouted in to the house, a mad scramble following it. Arthur, however, was more interested in the four nations doing a Mexican stand in his front yard. What the hell was Wang doing here?!

England sighed and parked the truck inside the garage, explosions signaling the demise of his beloved garden. The fucking idiots, why did they had to fight in his garden?! When he returned Patrick had somehow acquired a long bow while Yao had changed his favourite wok for an actual sword. Things where no better with Michael and Sean, the pair having grown tired or simply using them all, with explosives and moved to... where in the name of the Queen did Sean get an assault rifle?!

"YOU FOUR WILL STOP IT THIS SECOND OR I'M GOING TO GUT YOU AND USE YOUR BODIES FOR THIS YEAR'S BONFIRE NIGHT!" The nations froze as the irate English picked up a broom and pointed at them with it. "RETURN ALL THAT TO WHERE YOU FOUND IT OR SO HELP ME, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU CAN'T HOLD A BLOODY SPOON WITH YOU TONGUES."

Not even Ireland and China were stupid enough to go against England when he was like this, so the four scrambled to put away they various weapons before the nation decided to hold true to his word. "AND COME BACK HERE WHEN YOU ARE DONE, I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!"

"Agh, mom, shill down will ya?" Chris shouted from the relative safety of the front door. He barely dodged the flying broom to the head, the nation laughing nervously before disappearing back into the house.

"Listen, you four, you are going to fix whatever damage you have made now. I don't care how long it takes you or how long you will have to work, you will fix my garden, are we clear?." Yao looked mutinous but one glance at Arthur's face was enough to remind him how exactly Michael had became an English colony.

New Zealand, who was by now munching on something or another, decided it was high time to drag his mother back in to the house, the two nations groaning when confetti, ribbons and other unidentified objects rained over them. "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!" The ex-colonies shouted, making poor England's headache worsen by the second.

Arthur was quickly dragged in to the back yard, a table filled to the brim with food, and he was pushed down in to a seat at the head of the table. His children descended on him next, hugging, lifting him to the air, and generally making an spectacle of themselves. England was quite gland when he was finally left alone on his seat, Wales smirking at him before setting a cake before him, New Zealand, Seychelles and India placing copies of it around the table.

"Mom! Come on! Stop being a sour puss!" Alfred shouted in to his ear, someone having deemed it appropriate to place a stereo in the yard and have it blasting music at them.

Arthur didn't answer for once, only rubbed his aching forehead and ate a bit of food on his plate. He fled as soon as he was able to the safety of his parlor, collapsing on a sofa groaning. "Mom, you are such an old man." Patrick stated, the nation being allowed back at the house after fixing the garden with some Dryads' help.

"Shut up." Arthur groaned, squeaking indignantly when he felt arms punching him up and an unshaven face brushing his own. "Francis! What the fuck are you doing he-GET YOUR HANDS AWAY YOU PERVERT!" A solid punch to the gut and the English man was able to get away from the Frenchman grip... only to fell on Russia's waiting arms. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU BLOODY KOLZKOLZ?!"

"Comrade Kirkland, I wouldn't have miss the occasion of course."

"HEY, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY MOM, YOU COMMIE!" Alfred shouted irately, things evolving quickly in to a fist fight as Arthur dragged himself away. Who the fuck invited those wankers to his home anyway?!

England sighed and dragged himself to the couch, collapsing in to a blushing Iceland's lap, drawing a few pills from his back pocket and snuggling in to Egil's chest. Whoever dared to bother him now would have to pass Norway and Denmark's first, Sigurðr trying to stop Hemming from killing the Englishman for touching his brother one of the world's most effective barriers in his aching mind.

Thankfully, when he woke up he would have some time to prepare psychologically for his birthday and Father's Day at Denmark's house. At least if Hemming finally managed to kill him this year he wouldn't have to worry about the disaster zone his house would not doubt be in the morning.

Author's Notes: ...I did it for the lols?