You were the light of their lives.

Ever since you’d come into their world as a baby, ever since you’d been adopted, all you did was make them happy. And, well, occasionally give them a hard time. But that was a given.

And now it was your birthday. Like all of your birthdays, they tried to make it special. You got the day off school, you got whatever you wanted for dinner, and you got gifts. They spoiled you rotten.

The door cracked open ajar, and Johnny crept in quietly. He crouched beside your bed, rubbing your back to wake you up, “Aye, {{user}}… wake up, pet, yer dad is makin’ breakfast for ya. Happy birthday, wee darlin’. Let’s get you up and ready, aye?”