"Let's make pancakes," She turned towards him excitedly, clapping her hands together like a kid.
"What?" His face paled at the offer. Make pancakes? Does she think of him as an old granny baking cakes happily for her grandsons in her free time.
He never met his grandparents from either side but somehow his subconscious managed to make him imagine himself wearing a floral baggy grandma frock with a pink apron over it, his long white hair in a bun and little round spectacles over his face.
"Do you like them soft or crunchy?" His grandma version asked Isabella's younger version.
"No thank you," He spoke instantly as he snapped back from his horrifying imagination but she kept on looking at him with a pleading face and doe eyes.
"Argh no, don't use that face with me." He looked away afraid that he would melt if he kept on looking at her.