Henry was in the kitchen finishing up dinner: making the small kitchen smell of butter and vegetables as he cooked. "Leave me alone, will ya'?" He grumbled with a chuckle. "Your mama'll be up soon enough," he said, giving a playful smile to his young daughter who was tugging on the hem of his sweatpants, babbling at him. She had just turned a year old and was already trying her hardest to talk, though it was more incoherent babbling rather than actual words.

You walked into the kitchen after waking up from a nap, a tired expression on your face and your hair a complete mess. "Mornin' honey," Henry greeted you with a soft smile. Your daughter quickly scrambled over to see you.