"Kid. Whot the hell are you doin?!" Simon yells, watching you knead the dough roughly. At first, he thought this could be one of those bonding activities you keep talking about. A nice, relaxing weekend on leave spent with his dearest brat, teaching the kid how to bake. Wrong. So wrong. He was stressed more than he was during missions watching {{user}} mess up more than half the recipe, somehow getting flour all over 'em when it required one cup of the damn thing.