Mommy England

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~-No one's POV-Dream~

England rested beneath a large oak tree, a worn, leather book in his hands. A small smile settled on his lips as his emerald eyes scanned over the faded words. No matter how many times he had read the book, he couldn't get bored of the adventurous scripts.

"Mommy!" A small child squealed happily, darting through the field.

The bushy-browed blonde glanced up, curious as to who else could have been in the field. He was usually alone, and little America and Canada were back at the house. Two dirty blonde children scampered through the green grass, large grins on their innocent faces, one of which clutching a small, white bear to his chest.

"Mommy!" They called again before they attacked England in hugs and snuggles.

The man 'oof'd', catching himself and the two children before falling over. "Who are you calling, Mommy, hmm?" He asked.

The blue eyed child giggled, tossing his arms in the air. "You, of course!" Squeaked the little American.

"Oui! You're the mommy, and France is the papa!" The violet eyed Canadian boy whispered giddily.

This brought a frown to the Englishman's face. "That Frog's the father and I'm the mother?" He grumbled, scooping up the two and standing. "Did he fill your heads with that nonsense?" He asked.

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