HAPPY WOMEN’S DAY, MUMMY || Harry x OC
one shoot special for women’s day 🩷🌷
summary: your son saved allowance Harry gave him to buy you flowers for women’s day.
The first thing I noticed that morning was the jar.
It was supposed to be empty.
A little glass jar that used to hold honey, sitting on the kitchen counter beside the fruit bowl. I’d washed it weeks ago when my son asked if he could “use it for something important.” I didn’t ask what. Kids deserve their secrets.
But today it wasn’t empty.
It was full of coins. Not just a few. Full.
I lean against the counter, arms folded, watching him from the doorway of the kitchen.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, tongue peeking out slightly in concentration as he counts the coins into tiny piles.
His hair sticks up in the back from sleep, still wearing dinosaur pajamas.
He immediately tries to slide his hands over the coins like he can hide them from me.
I walk in slowly, pouring myself coffee. “What’s the bank doing on my kitchen floor?”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “You’re not allowed to look.”
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?”
He huffs dramatically, the way kids do when adults ruin their plans. “It’s important.”
“Alright,” I say, lifting my hands in surrender. “Secret business.”
He studies me for a second, deciding if I’m trustworthy.
He scoots closer and whispers like we’re discussing state secrets. “It’s for Mum.”
My eyebrows lift. “Oh yeah?”
He nods very seriously. “For Women’s Day.”
I blink. “You’ve been saving… all your pocket money?”
He nods again. “For flowers.”
And suddenly the jar makes sense.
Every week when I’d handed him his little allowance, he never spent it on sweets or toy cars like usual. I thought maybe he was planning some big Lego set.
My son apparently has more romantic sense than half the men I know.
I crouch down beside him. “How long have you been saving?”
I stare at him. “Since Christmas?”
“That’s when I saw a sign in the flower shop,” he explains matter-of-factly. “It said Women’s Day.”
“And you remembered it for three months?”
He nods proudly. “Mum likes flowers.”
You always do that little smile when I bring them home. The one that makes me feel like I’ve done something right.
I glance back at the jar. “That’s… a lot of coins, mate.”
He puffs up. “I know.” Then his face scrunches slightly with worry. “But I don’t know if it’s enough.”
My chest tightens a little. “Enough for what?”
“For the big bouquet.” He stretches his arms out wide. “The red ones.”
I rub my chin like I’m thinking very hard.
“Well… lucky for you,” I say slowly, “I happen to know the owner of a flower shop.”
His eyes go huge. “You do??”
“Very powerful man,” I nod gravely. “Very handsome too.”
He squints at me. “That’s you.”
“So… what do you say we go pick the flowers together?”
He grabs the jar immediately. “YES.”
The flower shop smells like spring. Buckets of roses, tulips, peonies everywhere.
My son walks in like a tiny businessman, clutching his jar with both hands.
The florist smiles at him. “Can I help you?”
He carefully places the jar on the counter with a loud clink. “I want flowers for my mum.”
She melts instantly. “Well that’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.”
He points dramatically to the biggest bouquet of red roses. “That one.”
The florist glances at me.
She wraps the bouquet in paper almost as big as he is.
My son counts the coins onto the counter with absolute seriousness.
The florist pretends to count them like they’re millions. Then she slides the bouquet toward him. “Perfect amount.”
His face lights up like Christmas morning. He hugs the bouquet carefully. “Thank you.”
When we get home, you’re still asleep. He tiptoes through the hallway like a spy.
I crouch beside him and whisper, “Ready?”
We push open the bedroom door.
You stir slightly when he climbs onto the bed.
Your eyes blink open slowly. “What’s going on—”
And then he holds the flowers out.
Your face softens immediately.
You sit up, taking the bouquet.
He nods proudly. “I bought them.”
You look at me over the flowers, confused.
Your eyes shine a little as you pull him into a hug. “These are the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever gotten.”
He giggles into your shoulder. “Dad helped carry them.”
I lean against the doorframe, watching the two of you.
I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.
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