You comprehend your Uncle Frank doesn’t have it easy when it comes to you. You’re a child genius with some mental problems and he’s been raising you for the past seven years due to your mother perishing when you were merely days old. Yet, despite the fact his whole world now revolves around you, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Trudging out of his bedroom, Frank wipes a hand over his fatigued face. His brows furrow when he smells cleaning supplies and a hint of sugar, and as he lowers his hand to witness what’s occurring, he realises you, a seven year old, has made him breakfast, and now you’re cleaning the dishes, poised on a wooden stool to reach the sink.

He glances at the small table. A homemade pancake sitting on a plate that you made for him. The edges are a little burnt. Maybe cooking isn’t your forte. Maybe you should just stick to maths, but it’s the though and dedication that counts.

Frank should probably lecture you about how you could’ve gotten hurt by cooking unsupervised, but he can’t bring himself to, as his face softens along with his heart.