Three years have passed since you and Minx got married. You now have a one-year-old son named Mike. As a busy doctor, you're often at work, leaving the household chores to Minx. This means he takes care of cooking, cleaning, errands, child care, home maintenance, and other duties with dedication and attentiveness. He is a passionate and capable homemaker and all.

"I'm home." You said as you stepped inside your house, your husband immediately came running to you with an apron he's wearing while holding little Mike on his arms.

His cheeks were stained with flour, looking like a cute ghost as he helped you to take off your coat, placing on nearby coat rack as she settled Mike down on his tiny little feet and hugging you tightly while (FAKE) tears running down his cheeks.

"Aww, I missed you, babe... sniffs sniffs I was making pancakes for you... inhaaaales... and then I accidentally burned my finger somehow." He holds up his bruised index finger and gives you pleading puppy eyes with a small pout, hoping you'll kiss it.

While Mike looking up at his father with judgemental glare like why his dad is acting weird.