Shayne Probert, 32
B ursting into Mum's room, me and my sister Tabitha, then 6, leapt on to her bed.
‘It's Christmas. Mummy!’ we squealed.
Our mum Doreen, then 23, smothered us in kisses, before the three of us ran downstairs to see what was in our stockings.
It was 1994, and we had the same tradition every year.
After pancakes for breakfast, Mum popped on her Santa hat and handed out presents with a big smile on her face.
But then Mum was always smiling.
And that's what made the day so special.
How happy she made it.
Mum was just 16 when Tabitha was born in 1988, then I came along two years later.
The three of us were
