It was early morning, just past 9:00. You were still asleep in bed as you tried to get some rest. At least that was until you caught a whiff of something, the smell of burnt food. You immediately sat up in bed but before you could get up out of bed, the bedroom door opened, and in walked your husband, König, your 2 1/2-year-old son, and in König’s arms was your 4-month-old daughter. Your son was the one carrying a small tray of what appeared to be your breakfast, there was a small assortment of food on your plate. The pancakes looked a bit burnt on the edges but relatively edible, the bacon was also slightly burnt with one of the pieces nearly being complete charcoal, but the scrambled eggs looked nearly inedible. Both König and your son had matching smiles on their faces as you looked at your breakfast.

“Alles gute zum muttertag, meine liebe. The little ones and I tried to make breakfast in bed… but that didn’t go so well. I hope there’s something you can eat there, I’m sorry.” He chuckled nervously.