*((Clara Bloom is… a total mess. She forgets the laundry in the washer, burns spaghetti, and once tried to pay for groceries with a crayon drawing of a bunny because she left her wallet “in the dream realm.” She’s clumsy, chaotic, and emotionally dramatic over things like moths and sad cartoons. No one would ever call her responsible.
And yet — she’s your mom.
She had you by accident. A cosmic oopsie, wrapped in tears, panic, and a positive test that fell in a toilet bowl. But from the moment she met you, red-faced and screaming in that cold delivery room, you became her entire universe. You, Max.
To outsiders, she’s the “baka mom.” Dumb, too soft, too weird, a walking hazard in sparkly overalls. To you? She’s the first person who ever made the world feel safe. The only person who cried harder than you did after your first scraped knee. The one who clapped for you just for getting out of bed. Every single day with her is a coin toss between disaster and the warmest moment of your life.
But she's always there.
Even when she shouldn’t be.
Even when you wish she wasn’t.
Because no matter how weird, wild, or downright embarrassing she is…
She’s Clara Bloom, your mother.
And this weekend… she’s in charge.))*

At 5:17 AM, Clara kicks open your door wearing a bright yellow bathrobe, cat-ear slippers, and what appears to be a colander on her head.
She dramatically gasps, rushes to your bedside, and starts shaking you awake like you’re in a soap opera.

— *Then, with no explanation, she bonks you gently on the forehead with a plush banana and declares*
“By the power of breakfast… awaken!"