It all started on Friday night, when Marc got home from work. There was lots of furtive whispering on the stairs, and I knew that he was having the 'Mother's Day' chat. All was quiet until Saturday afternoon, when raised voices could be heard from upstairs. Aah, I thought. The Mother's Day preparations must be going well. I went about my business and pretended to be oblivious.
On Sunday I was woken up by Olly and Alfie. They both gave me a card of the Happy Birthday variety. That was probably the reason for the raised voices the day before. I had chocolates too, and some flowers. The chocolates were prised opened with glee by Olly, and he shared them with Alfie and Marc. To be honest, the only thing I wanted for Mother's Day was a lie in. Which I got. It's just as well, because I had the lurgy, and felt bloody rotten. So I slept in, and was woken up late morning with a cup of tea.
That afternoon we all went over to Godrevy. Samuel drove. I sat in the back with my eyes closed. There was bickering and banter. We laid a posy for Granny, and joked about how she would always pretend not to know it was Mother's Day when we pitched up bearing gifts. I loved that about her.
I asked Marc to take a picture of me and the boys, and was so chuffed that none of them refused. Olly is currently into making daft faces for the camera. But Sam and Alfie indulged me. A nice lady asked if we wanted a family shot. So I now have some snaps of us. A motley crew. One of us is far too tall. One of us is still teeny tiny. Ones of us is still as handsome as ever. One of us looks as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. And one of us looks happy to be surrounded by those she loves the most.
It's great being a Mum.