A mother's work was never done, even when the majority of her children were out playing. Miranda sighed as she sat at the kitchen table, stirring her tea. Flip and Nancy had finally gone down for their naps, the laundry was done, the house was clean. Finally, she could sit back, relax, and-

"Owwwwww! Wham bam, I'm in a jam!"

Sighing, Miranda stood up and followed the sound of Stanley's voice to the front door. She'd had a feeling this was going to happen, it seemed like once a month the boy tried to do some silly trick on his bike. It was a wonder he managed to bounce back as easily as he did.

"What happened this ti-oh my," she gasped. Even if it was a sight she was used to, it still pained her; the right leg of his jeans was torn, blood dripped steadily from a gash on his knee, and his clothes and hair were mussed up and covered with twigs and dirt. Stanley smiled a little despite his obvious pain.

"I tried to jump the fence," he said. "I guess Henry was right, I just can't do it."

"I should think not!" Miranda chuckled. "Come on, let's get you all fixed up," she said, lifting him into her arms. Stanley groaned.

"Aww, Mom, I'm nine years old! I'm too big to be carried!" he protested. "Can't I just lean on your shoulder?"

"Not when you're limping and dripping blood everywhere," Miranda said. Thankfully, he didn't put up much of a fight on the way upstairs. "Now get out of those dirty clothes and put your bathrobe on, she instructed.

"I almost did it," Stanley said as he shucked off his torn jeans and dirty sweatshirt. "I almost had it, but something must've gone wrong."

"I'm sure you did." Miranda dipped a wash cloth in cold water and began to wipe up the blood. When she added soap and bactine, he barely winced; if nothing else at least he was used to this. "Oh, my...just what did you fall on to cause a cut this deep?"

"A sharp rock. I didn't even know it was there!"

"Oh, honey..." She stroked his messy hair. "Weren't you scared?"

"Of course not, Mom! I wore my helmet and the rest of the ground was soft," Stanley said. Miranda just shook her head, it disturbed her how accustomed he was becoming to this sort of thing.

"You really need to be more careful, Stanley. One of these days you could get yourself in serious trouble," she said as she carefully dried the area around the wound. "You would do well to listen to your brother."

"But Henry's always being a stick in the mud, Mom. He doesn't know how to have fun and he's always tryin' to stop me having it. It's like he's thirty instead of ten."

"You know your brother doesn't want you to stop having fun, Stan," Miranda said. "He just wants you to be safe because he cares about you."

"He sure has a funny way of showin' it, always calling me dummy and stuff," Stanley groaned. "It's like once he turned ten he started getting mean."

"Oh, Stan..." Miranda chuckled as she applied some pain relief ointment to a gauze pad, then applied the pad to the wound. "Don't worry so much. Your brother adores you, just like everyone in this family."

"He does?"

"Of course!" She smiled. "How could anyone not adore a charmer like you?"

"Charmer, eh?" Stanley grinned. Miranda tied off the bandage and ruffled his hair.

"It's that smile of yours, Stanley," she said. "I've never been sure whether you do it on purpose, but all you ever have to do is smile and it's impossible for anyone to stay mad at you. Yes, even your brother." She helped him stand. "Now why don't you get into some clean clothes, lie down on the couch and I'll bring you a snack?"

"Sure thing, Mom!" Stanley limped to his and Henry's room to get dressed, and Miranda smiled. A mother's work was never done, but with a boy like Stanley it was sure to never be boring.