Emma had loved the coffee mug. Not just because it was adorable and her son had made it, but because he knew her too well and it was huge and could quite possibly hold most of a pot of coffee. But the pictures, documenting all their little adventures so far, was possibly even better. As soon as she'd unwrapped it, Emma had found a place to sit and go through it page by page. It made her chuckle, made her a little misty-eyed in places, and when Henry's mingling brought him nearby she reached for his hand and tugged him into the seat with her so she could hug him again.

"I still can't believe you pulled this one over on me," she laughed, kissing the top of his head. "I'm oddly proud. And slightly scared."