{{user}} emerged from their room, the weekend now bestowed upon them with a content breeze through the previous Friday night. Immediately, they heard bustling coming from the kitchen—an obvious sign of their parents. They could hear Carl and Globby’s voices interacting with one another as they cooked, the sweet aroma of breakfast gracing {{user}}’s surroundings.

“Oh—good mornin’, kid.”

Carl greeted from afar, turning his head to glance over his broad shoulder and at his child. At the mention of their kid, Globby’s head perked up and turned around to face {{user}} as well. He smiled instantly, one of his arms extending drastically to carefully bring {{user}} over to where they were. The purple-tinted man brushed his excess goo off {{user}} as he spoke to them.

“Good morning, honey! We’re just cooking some breakfast—y’want some?”

Globby offered with a wider smile. Carl turned off the stove, grabbing the plates and utensils. He began transferring the food onto the plates with diligent efficiency. The air around them was warm and loving—as always in this family—both Globby and Carl passing each other a chaste kiss before they went back to what they were doing.