Ty stood on a stool washing fabric paint of his tiny hands in the kitchen sink. He was wearing a paint splattered shirt and jeans to go with. He just spent an hour working on a shirt for Mercedes' for Mother's Day. Finn stood clad in black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt and hovering over the stove. The two of them had gotten up extra early to surprise Mercedes for Mother's Day with home-made gifts and breakfast in bed.
Ty finished his ABCs his head and shut off the water, hopping of the stool and hurried to find something to dry his hands off with.
Meanwhile, Finn stood frowning over a recipe book, his face paler than usual due to his excessive and incorrect use of flour.
"Daddy, what happened to your face?" Ty frowned as he wiped his hands on his now wet shirt. Finn glanced over at the seven year old, doing a double take when he saw his son's doing.
"Tyler, go wash your hands again, and this time use a paper towel," he scolded before turning back to the recipe book. "And nothing's wrong with it."
Ty huffed and climbed back onto the stool, restarting his ABCs as he washed his hands once again and this time drying them on a paper towel. "Are you sure because you look sick."
Finn let out a frustrated sigh and pulled the recipe book from his face and onto the counter. "Did you finish your shirt?"
Ty nodded with a large grin as he pulled out a barstool to sit at the bar so he could watch his father cook.
"Good," Finn said, turning his attention back to the bowl in front of him. "That's one thing taken care of," he finished under his breath.
"So what're we making?"
"Chocolate soufflé; the way Kurt makes it, not the way the Food Network makes it, eggs over easy; not runny, grits, and toast that's not hot, but cool with Welch's strawberry jelly that's practically freezing," Finn called out without skipping a beat. He let out a chuckle seeing his son's face. "Your mom is really particular when she's pregnant."
"What did she eat when I was in there?"
"Apples. Lots of green apples. Oh, and shrimp. It was weird going to the store and buying nothing but green apples," he frowned, scrunching his nose at the soufflé directions.
Ty looked down and began examining his arm. "Too bad I didn't come green."
Finn's head suddenly shot up in interest. "Dude that would have been awesome." He shook off the thought before turning his attention back to the soufflé once again.
"Why don't you just call Uncle Kurt?"
"Because then Uncle Kurt would be making breakfast for mom and not dad and Ty."
"But we would save so much time, dad..."
"Do you wanna help or not?"
"Fine," Ty sighed, hopping off his seat and standing by his father. He could barely see over the counter-top. It was clear he had gotten his height from his mother rather than his father. "I thought the whites and yolks were supposed to be separated?"
"They are? Ugh, they are!" Finn ran a hand through his hair and pulled his phone from his pocket. Scrolling through his contacts, he dumped the current contents of his "soufflé" until he found 'Uncle Kurtie' as Ty used to once call him. He walked over to place Ty on the counter and handed off his phone. "Here. Talk to him while I get more ingredients. I know at least what goes in it," he sighed. Ty grabbed the phone with a grin before putting it to his ear.
"Uncle Kurt, we need an emergency soufflé. Oh, you're on your way over. How'd you know we needed help? Cool! I want a radar like that!"
Finn tuned in and out of their conversation only catching bits and pieces as he reread the directions carefully, and pulling put the appropriate directions.
"Daddy says but the industrial lube because the other kind will burn up the rubber and it'll smell really bad if you and Blaine go to fast."
With the sound of eggs cracking on the ground, Finn turned to his son with a shocked expression.
"Daddy, mom said she didn't want scramble eggs, remember?" Ty reminded innocently swinging his feet back and forth. Finn stood frozen in his spot by the open fridge when Kurt walked through the front door.
"Did he? I know it's been a while since he changed my tires so I have to ask him about it later."
Finn visibly slackened, released he didn't have to give the talk just yet. He glanced down now realizing his mess on the floor.
"I would say I'm shocked that, but I'm not," Kurt shrugged as he eyed the mess on the floor and Finn's appearance, his phone still pressed to his ear.
"I told him no scrambled eggs," Ty chimed in. Kurt averted his attention from Finn to Ty and quickly ran over to wrap the boy in a hug, but suddenly stopped seeing his clothes. "This makes so much more sense after seeing the front lawn."
"Wait, what happened to our yard?" Finn began.
"I-"
"No need to explain now. Let's just get this soufflé going. Noah's been blowing up my phone because he can't figure out what to get Tina. Leave to that boy to wait to the literal last minute."
"Really? So I was more prepared than Puck"
"Focus, Finn," Kurt scolded. Finn shrugged innocently and waited for Kurt to take over the kitchen. He had seen this happen all before; all Kurt needed was a subtle hint so he could take over.
The three stood silently in the kitchen as they waited for something to happen.
"Okay, so—"
"Daddy, can—"
"Ty—"
The three overlapped each other in conversation and stopped as soon as the first word slipped. Finn suddenly handed off the bowl to Kurt. "All yours."
Kurt smile triumphantly and shut the recipe book without batting an eye. Finn went back to the fridge to prepare the rest of the meal while Ty sat by and watched.
"Ty, go upstairs and make sure your mom is still in bed," Finn said as he began heating a pan for the eggs. Ty nodded once before hopping of the counter and running down the hall to his mother.
Mercedes sat in bed flipping through mindlessly on the TV as she rubbed her belly with the other hand. The kick of their unborn daughter, Janelle, had woken her up for the third time that morning. She didn't bother to go looking for Finn; figuring if she needed anything, she would call. She had been feeling a bit depressed lately and couldn't figure out why, but hoped it was just the hormone. Mercedes knew Finn had caught on to her sudden mood changes, because he would hover over her making sure she was okay. She cherished moments like these when she could just relax by herself and Janelle.
Hearing her son running down the hall, Mercedes felt Janelle kick even more, causing a small smile to spread on her face. Ty knocked quietly on the door, peeking his head around the doorframe. "Can I come in?"
"Come sit," Mercedes nodded, patting the empty space next to her. "She's kicking."
Ty ran over and climbed into bed next to his mother and cautiously placed his tiny hand on her belly. "Hi, Janelle." A toothy grin broke out on his face as he felt kicking.
After letting Kurt out, Finn grabbed Ty's shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. He grabbed the tray carefully and began walking up the stairs. He successfully made it up the stairs with only the slightest notation at the top step, luckily, he caught himself. With a grin, he entered the room to find Ty fast asleep on Mercedes' shoulder and her quietly singing to her belly and Ty.
"Happy Mother's Day," he whispered, tip-toeing across the room. He placed the tray on the nightstand to place a kiss on Mercedes' forehead. In all honesty, she had forgotten about Mother's Day and this surprise had genuinely cheered her up. "Finn Hudson, I can't believe you," she grinned. Her eyes averted to the tray. "Is that..?"
Finn nodded before letting out a quiet "Mhmm. I got you something and Ty made you a shirt." Mercedes' eyes began to water and her bottom lip quivered slightly.
"Uh, baby, we can throw everything away. And it's just fabric paint; it'll come out of the lawn," Finn stammered.
Mercedes shook her furiously in protest. "I'm just so happy and I completely forgot it was Mother's Day because of this funk I'm in," she said, smiling softly. "I love it. I love this. I love the shirt. Hell, I might even love our ruined yard. I love you." Finn grinned and the two meet in a short, sweet kiss. Mercedes began singing quietly again to her belly as Finn pressed his ear to it. Ty had taken residence on his mother's shoulder, and was well on his way to falling asleep to his mother's voice.