I recall a time when my son was about 18 months old. I had him strapped into a backpack and was rushing to catch the bus. Apparently I missed my step and fell down an entire flight of stairs (13 to be exact). I was bruised and bleeding and had torn my jeans ... but my main concern was, naturally, for my child.
My fears were alleviated, though, when from behind me I heard a gleeful giggle followed by, "Again!"

Two children ordered their mother to stay in bed one Mother's Day morning. As she lay there looking forward to being brought breakfast in bed, the smell of bacon floated up from the kitchen.