Shawn Mendes Imagines

Mother's Day Shopping (Shawn's POV)

"Hurry up!" Amira yells from ahead, after she let go of my hand and runs to the automatic doors of the mall. "It's your fault we have to hurry!"

"Would you chill?" I roll my eyes, adjusting my grip on Nathan, who I was carrying until we got inside.

"She's nuts," Nathan says, sucking his thumb.

I swat his hand away from his mouth. "Stop that," I say. "You're almost four years old. You shouldn't be sucking your thumb."

"Dad!" Amira yells again. I set Nate down and walk towards her, holding his small, chubby hand in mine so he won't run off.

"Okay guys," I clear my throat. "You each get to pick out one gift for Momma, and then decide on one from all three of us. Please don't get her a pen or something really cheap and crappy. Mom does a lot for you two and she deserves a great present from each of us. Understood?"

They nod their heads, and Amira grabs my free hand and pulls me towards the escalator. "Mom's favorite store is upstairs," She explains.

I just hold both of their hands and follow her, since she seemed to know where she was going. For a nine year old, Amira has been to the mall way too many times to know her way around it.

The man behind us saw me holding onto both of them, and smiled sympathetically.

"Mother's Day shopping?" He thinks outloud.

I sigh and nod. "Please don't judge me for the last minute thing. We've been really busy."

He laughs. "I'm not judging, man."

When we finally got to the top floor, Amira leads Nate and I to Y/N's usual clothing store, and walks around trying to pick something out.

"I came here with Momma last week and she showed me a black sweater that she really liked. We just have to find it," Amira says, determined.

"Is this it?" Nate asks, grabbing onto a red pair of pants and pulling them so they fall off the hanger and onto the floor.

"No, what color is black? You learned this when you were little!" I exclaim, picking them up and putting them back where they go.

Nathan responds by looking around to find something black, and when he does, he runs towards it and points right at the sleeve.

"That's it!" Amira yells. Why does this child insist on yelling everything?

"Okay, lets go get it, baby girl," I say, ushering her over to the check-out counter.

After we bought the sweater, I couldn't help but think a lot about it. I thought about how much time Amira and Y/N spend together, always going out to lunch or to the mall, usually, and how she drives Nathan to preschool every single day.

She picks him up at noon and then cooks dinner and cleans up the mess that they make, she makes sure they both get tucked into bed and then I get home to read them a story and then Y/N and I are together in our room and we're finally alone. And occasionally she'll look at me and I can tell what she's thinking-- she's exhausted, but she's thankful.

I was thankful for her, too. I wanted to show her just how thankful I was.

After Nathan picked out a gift, which was a new pair of shoes, I decided that none of us, and that's all three, are going to ask Y/N for a single thing tomorrow. Not a single errand for her to run, absolutely no chores for her to do. I wanted her to have a relaxing day after everything she goes through for us-- every day.

Honestly, I wanted more than just one day off for Y/N. I wanted her to have every day off. To never, ever stress, or cry, or argue or feel overwhelmed. Even if that means the tables turn on me. It brings me the greatest of joy to see her happy and relaxed, because even though she's beautiful all the time, she's most beautiful when she's carefree.

So I explained it to the kids on the drive home from the mall, and they reluctantly agreed. I think they knew, too, that she deserved this.

"Hey guys?" I say as soon as we pull into the driveway.

They both look at me.

"Yes, Dad?" Amira smiles in the review mirror.

I turn to face them. "What do you love most about Momma?"

Nathan was the first to answer.

"I love her cooking!" He exclaims.

"Me too, and how she drives me to soccer practice!" Amira adds.

I shake my head. "No, no, not that stuff. Not the stuff that she does. What do you love about her? What do you love most?"

Amira smiles again. "I love the way that she always tells me she loves me when I leave the house or get out of the car. It's like she knows it could be the last time she ever sees me."

"She does that to me too," I bite my lip. "I've never given it much thought until now, though."

"I love her laugh," Nathan says, holding onto his toes. "Momma's laugh always makes me laugh."

I look at Nathan, then back at Amira.

"Yeah," I finally say, thinking about her. "Me too."

"What do you love most about her?" Amira asks me.

I just smile down at the floor of the car and think for a moment. Finally, I look up and mumble, "Everything you guys just said, and more. There's really nothing about her that I don't love."

***

Cute.

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