ᴍɪssɪɴɢ || ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʙᴏɴᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ: ǫᴜɪʀᴋ ᴍᴀɴɪғᴇsᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

(D/n) sees her point from her decorated plate to his plain one with a confused look, not being able to understand in her childish mind why her dad doesn't want bunny shaped pancakes. He does his best to smile, running his hand through his already messy, dark hair. How do you explain to a three year old that adults grow out of certain childish interests, such as animal shaped food? 

"Umm...Dada just didn't want a bunny," (D/n) tries to explain, mentally patting himself on the back for his quick thinking.

Though, his muffin doesn't look entirely convinced as she takes the first bite of sugar dusted pancake, thinking to herself that in what world does someone not want their breakfast to be shaped like a bunny? Her Dada must be crazy. And, suddenly a brilliant idea pops into the three year old's mind as she reaches across the small table to grasp onto the edge of her Dada's plate, being restricted by the belt clasp.

Her father sits and watches as she struggles to pull the ceramic plate closer until it is fully in her short-armed reach. And, her next victim is the bottle of syrup set to the side of the table which is quickly caught by her chubby hands. (D/n) continues to just stare in amusement as his little girl manages to figure out how to open the lid, covering her hands in the sticky syrup. She takes a moment to lick it off her fingers, only making more of a mess. Noticing what she's about to do, he doesn't try to stop her as his princess starts "drawing" on his pancakes with the syrup like he did to her's. Why would he ever stop her when she was being sweet? Even if she was getting syrup all over the table right now.

Once finished, his muffin manages to close the lid, now covered up to her wrists in sticky syrup. But, laying on his plate is her masterpiece made of syrup that looks more like scribbles than any animal.

"There you go, Dada," She says proudly, holding out her hands to throw emphasis on her work of art. (D/n) smiles, standing from the dining table to grab a rag and quickly wet it under the sink before turning back to his syrup covered child who still looks at him with a proud gleam in her round eyes.

"Thank you, Muffin," (D/n) tells her, leaning to kiss her forehead while simultaneously grabbing her hands to wipe them off. Not that it'll matter in a few minutes, she'll probably make another mess while eating.

He sits back in his chair, pulling the masterpiece of burnt pancakes and syrup towards him and begins eating. He's not usually one for sweet things, which is why he didn't have powdered sugar or syrup on his pancakes, but she did this specially for him. Besides, all the sugar distracts from the burnt parts.

The father-daughter pair eats through a mixture of silence and three year old babbling, while (D/n) listens to his little girl go on and on about various dragon facts with a small smile. By the time they finish, it's nearly ten in the morning, the blissful dawn sunrise long gone. (D/n) leaves his little girl in the high chair, only turning her to face the kitchen while he washes the dishes and scrubs mercilessly at the syrup coating the plates. He half listens as his muffin continues naming every fact she's learned while at preschool and from the books he reads to her.

And, all he can think about is how every morning should be like this, waking up at an ungodly hour to have time to get around slowly before waking his grumpy daughter. Then, getting to rock her in his arms as she drools on his shoulder while making her a breakfast he knows will make her smile. Followed by all the little moments that make time with his daughter more special than anything else in this world.

His little princess.

His beautiful daughter.

His muffin.

His entire world.

With the dishes finished and resting neatly on the drying rack, droplets of water slowly dripping off the surfaces, (D/n) works to unclasp the buckle holding his little girl in her high chair as she smiles and reaches for him to pick her up. He does so, tickling her sides as he lifts her and earning weak kicks to the gut in response as she squeals and tries to squirm out of his arms.