It's Mother's Day. Post Mother's Day headcanons and greens.

>Lincoln trudges through the upstairs hallway ringing a bell at 4 A.M in the morning.
>"Roll call!" He yells.
>He goes into the trio's bedroom and yanks Lupa out of bed to carry her underarm since he knows she's the least likely to get up.
>Eventually, all his kids are standing sleep-eyed in the hallway.
>"Father, what's going on?" Lyra asked.
>Lupa growled under Lincoln's arm. "Grr."
>"I'm not making a dozen Mother's Day breakfasts by myself." Lincoln declared. "All of you are helping."
>Half his collected audience groans.
>"You are helping, or I shut off the cable and internet." Lincoln threatened.
>He gets more cooperation.