Dean was crouched in front of the freezer, trying to hide the pint of rocky road behind a bag of frozen peas when a tiny voice piped up behind him.

“Ice cream, Daddy!”

He turned to see his two-year-old daughter, Willow, standing in her fuzzy socks, clutching her sippy cup like a weapon of negotiation.

Dean smiled. “Not for breakfast, kiddo. How about waffles?”

Willow’s face crumpled. “But Mama said no to you last night… and then she said yes! A lot!”

Dean blinked. “What?”

Willow stomped her foot. “You said, ‘Come on, baby,’ and Mama said, ‘No, Dean, not now,’ and then she said ‘yesyesyesyes!’ So I want ice cream!”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “You were awake?”

Willow nodded proudly. “I heard it through the wall. Mama said no and then she changed her mind. So you can change your mind too!”

Dean rubbed his face, muttering, “I’m gonna need holy water and a parenting manual.”

Y/N walked in just in time to hear Willow shout, “No, Dean! Not now! Then yes!”

Y/N froze, eyes wide. “She’s quoting me?”

Dean pointed at the freezer. “She wants ice cream. She’s using your moaning as precedent.”

Y/N turned beet red. “Oh my God.”

Willow looked between them. “So… ice cream?”

Dean sighed, scooping her up. “How about we save the yeses for after lunch, huh?”

Willow pouted. “Only if waffles have sprinkles.”

Dean grinned. “Deal. But no quoting Mama at breakfast anymore.”

Willow giggled. “Okay, Daddy. But Mama’s yes was funny.”

Y/N groaned. “We’re never living this down.”