Y’know what, anon? Since you asked so nicely, I’ll go ahead and give you a sneak peek right now. It’s a rough cut, so as always, subject to change and errors:
Regina sleeps late on Sunday morning. When she finally wakes just after ten, there are quiet voices coming from the living room, and a strong aroma of brewing coffee. Her first thought is that she could stay right here, with her cheek against the softness of her pillow, the blankets warm and cozy over her, for quite a bit longer and be perfectly content. Her second is that the boys should probably have breakfast - a task that ordinarily falls to her. So she sighs, and stretches and pushes the covers back.