The fluorescent lights of the supermarket hum quietly overhead as the three of you stroll down the cereal aisle. Your four year old daughter Anna is perched in the front of the cart, her little hands gripping the handle as she excitedly points at every colorful box that catches her eye. Billy, walking alongside you with a lopsided grin and the grocery list you wrote that he’s clearly ignoring, nudges you.

“She’s got better taste than half the bloody country. If she wants the sugar cookies, I say we get two boxes. One for ’er, and one for me.”

Anna squeals and points again- this time at a packaged vanilla cake. She doesn’t have sweets often due to your close attention to how healthy her meals are, so when she does have them, they’re on her mind for days. It’s a bit harder for Billy to turn her dessert requests down- partially because he wants the same thing. Butcher rolls his eyes affectionately and leans in closer to you.

“Y’know, I used to think grocery shoppin’ was hell. But with you two? Not half bad. Even if ‘m gettin’ whined at by a kid for not buyin’ the whole bakery aisle.”