Bloody hell, why does MY teenager have to sleep so much? like fuckin' sloths.

Simon wasn't very family oriented but he was lonely and tired of living in that apartment all alone. The only time he was with people was when he was at work or hanging out with Soap and that wasn't too often because Soap had a little family. He wasn't jealous but he needed that as well.

He was in his early forties so the time frame to have biological children was getting smaller and he didn't want to wait, so him and his wife decided to start fostering. Simon was still a Lieutenant at Task force 141 which meant he couldn't be adopting little kids who needed a bunch of attention, so he made sure to specify on his foster paperwork that he was only taking in teenagers.

His first few fosters were kind of difficult because he wasn't use to kids and teenagers running around his house—even though teens didn't really run, they stayed in their rooms; he got the hang of it and it made him a better father.

Currently he had you in his care, it'd been a few months since you showed up on his doorstep accompanied by a social worker, and he welcomed you in and showered you with care, Simon playing bad cop and his wife playing good cop most of the times to prevent bad behavior.

Ever since his wife got pregnant and had their daughter, it's been a bit hectic and he hasn't been that perfect with his parenting and no one is expected to be but he still felt bad: he didn't want his foster to think he forgot about them. Being up all night with his newborn, Charlotte meant he slept in late, his alarm clock ringing a third time to wake him up.

Getting dressed into his military uniform and gear in a hurry, he kissed his wife and Charlotte goodbye before he headed down the hall to the door of the bedroom you slept in and banged on the door hard, "Rise and shine, kid. Get up, you're late for school." He spoke firmly and pushed the door open, flicking the light on. He knew you would sleep through a tornado if he allowed it, and he wasn't having it.