“It’s my birthday!” he shrieks. My eyes pop open and I stare at him in dramatic surprise. “Your birthday?” “Yeah!” he replies excitedly. I shrug dramatically. “Well, if you’re seven now, then you can make your own breakfast.” He giggles. “No, I can’t.” “Sure, you can. I’ll take an omelet, too, while you’re at it. Oh, and some pancakes.” He laughs again, tugging on my arm to try and get me up, but I crack a smile as I fake sleep.
This is so cute!
