A/N: This is a silly little thing, requested anonymously on tumblr.

"Mom said not to play with that," Sam pouted, looking up uncomfortably at Robbie poking at mysterious, glowing buttons. They all blink after Robbie presses them, then a smooth, disgusting smelling liquid pours out of the machine. "Robbie, mom said not to play with-"

"I'm not! We're making mom breakfast," Robbie explained, dashing over to the now sizzling bacon. That too smelled disgusting, but mostly because the pieces were charred and kind-of horrifying to look at, what with their crusty bits of fat no longer thick and delectable and now just thin wafers of pork.

"Why?"

"Because she's sick, silly!" Robbie answered back.

"Why?"

"Because dad got sick."

"You guys can't make breakfast, only daddy can!" Sam said loudly, offended at the idea of someone other than big, chubby again, goofy Andy making a mountain of bacon and piles of eggs.

"I think I got this," Jack claimed all-too-proudly with a beaming smile as the fork in his hand scraped across the bottom of the metal pan he was frying eggs poorly in.

Jack was busying himself with the eggs, and at least those looked okay in comparison. The babies were still asleep, well three year olds but Sam always thought of them as her baby sisters, and the older kids were destroying the kitchen on their way to making a perfect breakfast on their mother's day back to work. After someone caught the flu - dad - it spread like wildfire throughout the house, and April took the heaviest beating from it to the point where she took a few days off of work leading up to the weekend. A hospital visit that terrified little Sam, some strong medicine, and lots of bed rest and patient kids and Andy, and she was just about recovered.

In the meantime, Sam was holding her favorite mangled, stuffed rabbit and watching in awe as her brother and sister danced around the kitchen attempting to cook. Bacon grease spattered the stovetop, and a broken egg that just wouldn't crack right was still sitting out in the open on the countertop. Two little Keurig canisters lay wasted after Robbie tried opening one up and dumping it into a cup, and then another open and put into the slot, until she finally got it right on the third try. Toast sprang out from the toaster, completely raw and barely toasted whatsoever, and Sam saw this as her opportunity to do something.

Trying to reach up and grab it, she could barely touch the tip of the toast before she had to sit back down and walk over to the island in the middle of the kitchen, pouting, and make her way onto a stool.

"Taste test!" Robbie shouted, mimicking her father. Every time anything was remotely done, and whether or not it needed an actual test, he would scream that out and kids would come running to have a few bites of the breakfast he was making way better than her brother and sister.

Still, Jack jumped to the occasion and Sam hopped off of the stool as quickly as she had gotten on. The bacon was atrocious, far too crispy and charred, but the look on the cook's face was so proud.

"Eww!" Sam yelled.

The smile dropped and she turned back around. The coffee, black in the travel mug they always saw their mom with, was chilling by now.

It took another few minutes, and likely spurned on by the scream for taste test, before a bedraggled April made her way out. Hair stuck to her forehead and an old Mouse Rat t-shirt five sizes too big for her draped over her to match the miniature shirt Leslie made for Wabbit the Rabbit.

"Morning, ma!" Jack yelled out and a tiny, albeit confused, smile rose April's lips.

"What're you guys doing?" she asked, ruffling her hair and peeking into the coffee mug. Two plates lay on the island, both covered with napkins just like dad did.

"Breakfast!" Robbie shouted, spreading her arms out into a hug. She walked forward and buried herself in April's shirt and belly. "Happy Getting Better day!"

"What?"

"That's what dad called it," Robbie explained, looking up at her mom. "Um, then he said he wanted to sing you a special song for adults and that we had to go to bed."

April smirked and rolled her eyes. "Did he, now?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, you guys made-?"

April leaned forward and when she moved the napkins off of the bacon, saw the gruesome, charred sight underneath. She stopped and then sighed before reaching forward to pick up a piece. It nearly fell apart in her hands. By the time she had taken her first bite, and by bite April meant placed it in her mouth and let it crumble in there, the taste was just as bad as she feared. Still, she winced through it and smiled. When she settled in for black coffee (her least favorite thing in the world, and one day she'll explain to them how to put sugar and creamer in) and blacker bacon, undone toast and poorly cooked eggs, Andy was stumbling his way towards the smell of food in his favorite sweater and sweatpants.

"Whoa, who made breakfast?" Andy grumbled, already giving Robbie a brief hug and staring down at the food with hungry eyes. April will never understand how he can eat the things he does.

"We did," Jack pointed at Robbie and then himself.

"Dude, it looks so good!" he chuckled and grabbed two pieces of crumbly bacon before stuffing it in his mouth. Speaking through food, he said, "It's amazing!"

He leaned down and gave Robbie a high five, and then Jack, and then Sam. April couldn't help but smile through it, despite the watery eggs she was eating, because, really, this was amazing. The twins would wake up soon, their abhorrent sleep schedules broken and rebroken multiple times already, and then April would have to say goodbye to everyone when she went to work and it would all suck to know that they weren't going to see her for hours, and that she wasn't going to see them. Still, sitting with Robbie in her lap, eating their breakfast while Andy continually heaped praise on them for it - and then later, as April learned, gave them a little Johnny Karate branded lesson on how to clean up a kitchen that he learned from Leslie Knope - just meant that the feeling of wanting to smile never left April's mind.

She didn't fight it either.