𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂 - 𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙♡☼⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙

I was in my element. It was a perfect Saturday morning, the sun filtering through the curtains, the air fresh and warm, and the kitchen filled with the scent of fresh pancakes. The perfect recipe for a quiet, peaceful family breakfast, right?

Wrong.

"Mom!" Alessio yelled, his voice laced with urgency. "Come quick! Dad's about to break the blender!"

I froze. What in the world had he done now? I rushed to the living room, where I found Luciano standing in front of the blender, looking completely clueless. To make matters worse, Alessio was beside him, clearly egging him on.

"What are you two doing?" I demanded, hands on my hips.

Luciano looked at me with a deadpan expression. "I'm trying to make a smoothie."

"And I'm trying to help him before he turns our kitchen into a disaster zone," Alessio added with a shrug. "It's his fault for not reading the instructions."

I had to stifle a laugh. Of course, Luciano would never read instructions. I mean, he's the kind of guy who would try to fix a broken car with a wrench and no idea how cars worked. Somehow, though, he always made it work.

"Okay, no more smoothies," I said, stepping forward and taking the blender from his hands. "Let's stick to pancakes, alright?"

Luciano gave me a playful grin, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, I tried. You know I'd do anything for you, baby."

"Sure you would," I teased, "as long as it doesn't involve reading a manual."

I went back to the kitchen, shaking my head with a smile. As much as Luciano drove me crazy, there was no one I'd rather have by my side. I turned to finish preparing the pancakes, when I heard a loud bang from the living room. Oh no.

I rushed back into the living room to find Alessio standing in front of the TV, a guilty look on his face, and Luciano holding a couch cushion in the air like it was a weapon. It was the scene from hell. The cushion was airborne and aimed right at Alessio's head.

"What the—" I started, only to have the cushion hit Alessio right in the face. He dropped to the ground dramatically, clutching his face like he'd been hit by a wrecking ball.

"Mom!" Alessio shouted, half-laughing, half-groaning. "He tried to murder me with a pillow!"

Luciano threw his hands up in defense. "It wasn't my fault! He's the one who stole the last pancake and—"

I raised an eyebrow. "Wait, wait. You're fighting over pancakes?"

Alessio sat up, looking a little too pleased with himself. "Yep. I'm claiming the throne of Pancake King!"

"You stole the last one!" Luciano protested, still holding the cushion like it was some kind of weapon. "This is a matter of honor!"

I couldn't help but laugh. They were ridiculous. Both of them. But I loved it. Our little chaotic family.

"Alright," I said, shaking my head, "everyone stop. No more pillow fights over pancakes. We're having a peaceful breakfast. Got it?"

Luciano and Alessio exchanged a look. "Fine," Luciano muttered, finally dropping the cushion. "But this isn't over. Next time, I'm hiding the pancakes."

Alessio jumped up from the couch, his hands raised in victory. "You won't catch me! I'm the Pancake King!"

We all sat down at the kitchen table, which was now filled with pancakes, syrup, whipped cream, and a side of confusion. I took a seat next to Luciano, watching the chaos unfold before me. My little family. My wild, unpredictable, and somehow always hilarious family.

"Can I have some extra whipped cream?" Alessio asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

I raised an eyebrow. "For breakfast?"

"Why not?" Alessio grinned mischievously. "It's my crown, my rules!"

Luciano and I both chuckled at how much trouble we had with the boy. He had more energy than a wind-up toy and was always ready to cause a little havoc. But in the best way possible.

"Okay, Pancake King," Luciano said, chuckling. "But remember: no whipped cream fights. No one wants to clean that up."

I took a deep breath, finally feeling like things were settling down. But then, just as I was about to take my first bite of pancakes, I felt the sudden need to check on Hazel, who was sleeping peacefully upstairs.

"I'll be right back," I said, excusing myself from the table. "You two behave."

"Yeah, right," Luciano muttered, reaching for another pancake.

Upstairs, Hazel was still snoozing soundly, her little chest rising and falling in the most peaceful way. I couldn't help but smile down at her, my heart swelling with love. She was the sweetest little girl, and every moment with her felt like a gift.

I went back downstairs, where Alessio was busy making a mess with his pancakes, and Luciano was already eyeing the last bit of whipped cream.

"Hey!" I called out, "No one touches the last of the whipped cream until I get my turn."

"You didn't say anything about whipped cream rights," Alessio said with a grin, holding up the can like it was his most prized possession.

"Fine," I said, grabbing a spoonful of syrup. "I'll let you have your little fun... but I'm getting even."

Alessio just stuck out his tongue at me. "Bring it on, Mom."

At that moment, I realized something. Life was chaotic, unpredictable, and always filled with laughter. But I wouldn't have it any other way. We may have crazy mornings, pillow fights, and pancake wars, but we were making memories, and that's what mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, I could teach Alessio that there was a little more to life than whipped cream wars. But for today? Pancakes and chaos were the name of the game.

⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙♡☼⭒°ˑ˚。﹒∙