"Dad!" I yelled, "We need to plan for Mother's Day, it's getting close." Luckily, my mom did not appear to be home at this moment, so I could yell about it all I wanted. At least, as much as Dad would let me.

   "Ok, Rachel! Don't forget an inside voice! I'll be there in a second, let me just finish this game of Gin with your brother! I'll bring him too. After all, you both are her kids," Dad responded, also yelling across the house.

Fine, I thought. My dad and brother, Dylan, loved the game. It had become part of the daily routine, to my resentment. Can't it wait just this once?! We've got more important things to be talking about. After a couple minutes trudged by, the father and son came in to the living room, where I had sat waiting.

"Ok, then, let's see what we have so far: Dad, you're getting Mom the iPod speaker, Dylan, you're getting her the sweater set, and I'm getting her the book on great hikes. The presents are done- what about breakfast?"

"We could make oat scones!" Dylan suggested.

"Now when you say 'we'..." said my dad and I simultaneously, remembering the last Mother's Day we made scones.

"Don't worry! I'll help this time! I promise!" protested Dylan. I smiled sarcastically, eyebrows raised. The plan settled on scones and a fruit salad for breakfast, a casual lunch, then going out to Four Oaks Grill for dinner. "Well, I hope Mom likes it," spoke up Dylan cheerfully. I agreed.