“Are you up?”

The sweet scent of cinnamon rolls and coffee abuse your senses, long lashes fluttering against soft cheeks as your eyes slowly crack open; wincing at the sunlight directly over your irises.

“There’s my sweet girl…c’mon, I made you something.” kissing your forehead, she places a tray down with one hand. Always trying to be a show-off, somehow. It’s impressive, admittedly.

One fully awake, you see what she’s made you as a whole. Eggs, bacon..the whole shebang. And it’s safe to say you’re beyond grateful.

..even if she does this for you every other day.