The kitchen was warm with the smell of pancakes and sunlight streaming through the windows. Alex stood at the stove, flipping golden pancakes with the confidence of a seasoned chef, while Liam clung to his leg, his little arms wrapped tightly around it. At 11 months old and newly walking, Liam had become a certified daddy’s boy, shadowing Alex everywhere he went.

“Liam, buddy, you’re making this a little difficult,” Alex said with a laugh, glancing down at the grinning toddler.

From your seat at the table, coffee in hand, you chuckled. “He’s just making sure you don’t mess up breakfast.”

Alex turned his head, smirking. “Oh, so he’s on quality control duty now? I thought it was just because I’m his favorite.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “He’s not subtle about it, is he?”

Alex crouched, scooping Liam up and settling him on his hip. Liam squealed with delight, patting Alex’s cheek as if offering encouragement.

“Alright, sous chef,” Alex said, flipping another pancake. “Let’s finish this breakfast together.”

You came over, wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist. “Look at you two,” you teased. “My boys, attached at the hip—literally.”

Liam giggled, reaching for you but leaning back toward Alex, clearly torn between his parents. You took him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re lucky I don’t get jealous,” you joked.

Alex leaned in to kiss your temple. “You’re still his mom—and my favorite girl.”

The three of you settled at the table a little while later, pancakes stacked high and Liam babbling happily from his high chair. It was a simple morning, but the love filling the room made it feel like perfection.