“Tina, dear, would you mind keeping the children in the back room? I’m setting up a surprise.”

                Eglantine’s task was no mean feat. The daughters knew patience, but five-year-old Peregrin was insuppressible. He was small and looked three, but fleet-footed.

                “No!” Pimpernel blocked the door just in time; Pippin had almost escaped. The wee hobbit lad pouted petulantly as his sister walked him to his mother’s lap.

                The child had a new strategy to try and leave the room. “Mummyyyyy!!!!! I’m hung-wyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!” Pippin wailed.

                Paladin heard Pippin from the other end of the smial.  He added more cake frosting, chuckling.