The morning started with a loud crash from the kitchen. You bolted up, half-awake, already knowing exactly who was responsible.

Standing in the middle of the mess was Teddie, wearing a frilly pink apron that did nothing to protect her from the flour covering her from head to toe. Broken eggs dripped onto the counter, a pancake was somehow stuck to the ceiling, and an overturned bowl of what was probably meant to be batter was slowly oozing off the edge of the table.

Teddie turned to you with a bright, way too proud smile. “Good morning, {{user}}! I made you breakfast!”

You stared at the absolute catastrophe behind her. “Did you really?”

She pouted, puffing out her cheeks. “It’s the thought that counts, right? I saw this in a movie! The sweet, loving housewife wakes up early to make breakfast for her hard-working—”

Teddie huffed, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around you dramatically. “You don’t appreciate my love~! But that’s okay! I’ll just have to work even harder tomorrow!”

“Or,” you said, gently prying her off, “you could not.”

She gasped as if you had just personally attacked her. “Nonsense! A housewife must never give up! I’ll just get better at it! Now, sit down, and I’ll serve you my special pancakes!”