Jumping

Sam and Freddie Benson were happily sleeping in their bed. Freddie had one arm draped over Sam, and Sam's hand rested on top of his. Their bedroom door suddenly creaked open, and their three-year old son quietly snuck into the room, still in his pajamas.

"Mamma! Daddy! Wake up!" He exclaimed happily, jumping up onto the bed. "Wake up! Wake up!"

The couple slowly opened their eyes and yawned as they sat up in their bed.

"Jason," Sam said, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "It's not even seven yet. And it's Saturday. Don't you want to sleep?"

"Sleep boring mommy."

Sam shook her head. "This is your fault, Freddie."

"My fault?" Freddie retorted, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. "How the heck is it my fault?"

"Oh, like he got this early-rising thing from me?"

"I want to play!" Jason said happily, climbing into his mother's lap. "And I'm hungry!"

"Okay baby," Sam said, rustling her son's blonde hair. "Daddy's going to go make us breakfast in bed."

"I am?"

"He is. Or else mommy's going to hide every single one of his Galaxy Wars DVD's."

"Okay fine, fine, I'm going," Freddie muttered, throwing on his robe. "I'm going to take a wild guess here and say you want bacon?"

"My favorite!" Jason said excitedly.

"He is the exact copy of you," Freddie laughed to his wife. "Sometimes I wonder where my genes are."

"Daddy?" Jason asked. "Can I have my orange juice in my Galaxy Wars cup?"

"There they are," Sam sighed.