She was right… the only person that would know their brother’s type was, well, their brother. He wasn’t a mind reader. He was just a big brother. A big brother who was very observant, but nowhere near omnipotent. After all, he wouldn’t have pegged his little sister for falling in love with a human. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. One or the other. Even so, Morgan had only his instincts to fall back on. Instincts that had always been at least a little bit reliable. Regardless, Morgan knew when to drop a topic. She was going to try, which was all that he could probably get from Annabelle. Something that he was content with.
“That sounds like mom. The epitome of being a housewife.” Didn’t sound anything like Annabelle, though. Not really. It worked for Leanne. Annabelle wasn’t Leanne. Annabelle was Annabelle. “At least this whole thing means that if I ever end up with someone, I won’t have to worry about both of us being helpless in the kitchen, right?” He wouldn’t mind being the only person who could cook. If it meant that he had someone in his life that he cared about, cooking skills weren’t even on the agenda.
Morgan took the dishes, grateful that he had to only worry about setting the table for two. He’d grown up in a large family, and knew how horrible a large dinner could get. Especially ones that were even larger. Those were rarely fun. At least he was no longer in the position where he had to assist with the clean up… though Morgan frequently did. “What’s up with this pre-birthday stuff? You guys aren’t attempting to shaft me out of my actual birthday stuff, are you? Because I won’t like that.” Would he have to go birthday boy-zilla on his siblings? With legos for added emphasis?