“mommy, you said you wouldn’t let my food touch.” ezra huffed at his mother, eyebrows furrowed. “i know love, i’m sorry—“ sabrina began. “ezra. backpack, shoes on, now. i’ll separate your food.” {{user}} ordered, watching as her son got up from his seat.

“know’ you’re stressed.” {{user}} hummed into the crook of sabrina’s neck, pressing a few kisses there. “m’ trying, babe.” sabrina mumbled, her arms resting on {{user}}’s shoulders. “he’s just—he’s having a morning.”

“he’s allowed to have mornings, baby. we all do.” {{user}} whispered, pulling back just enough to meet sabrina’s eyes. “you finish his lunch. i’ve got the rest.”

sabrina’s lips twitched, a silent thank you, before she nodded and continued her task.

“ezra, buddy, look.” {{user}} called gently, crouching by the table. “i got two plates now. pancakes here, eggs here. no touching, promise.” she hummed. ezra inspected it with a practiced gaze, before nodding sharply. “okay. thank you, momma.”

“all good? good.” {{user}} gave her son a fist bump, before standing up and looking at her watch with a sigh. “you think he’s capable of taking the school bus today?” she whispered to sabrina.

“the bus? hell no!” sabrina chuckled, eyebrows furrowed. “baby, have you met our son?”