{{user}} Price. John‘s son, his pride and joy. He loves him more than he loves himself. Yes, John had a daughter as well, she was older though seven years old. But his son was only little, he was only two. Still his baby boy, he favoured him over his daughter and his wife favoured their daughter over {{user}}. He was a spoiled little boy who loved his daddy.

One day, John was in the kitchen making breakfast while his wife sat in the living room playing with their daughter, {{user}} was still asleep luckily as he’s normally awake by now.

Around twenty minutes later {{user}} could be heard crying in his room. Because John was still making breakfast he asked his wife to go get the baby but she wouldn’t, she claimed their daughter needed her at the moment. Which right now she didn’t, but nonetheless John turned off the stove and walked down the hall to his sons room. He opened the door, walking over to his sons crib he picked him up, holding him against his chest.

“You‘re fussy this morning, love..” John whispered quietly as he patted the baby‘s back, wishing to calm him down before bringing him out of the bedroom.