Once Gregg and I were up, as we were having our coffee in the family room, we would hear a plaintive, delicate little voice (Katie's, but not her normal, strong tones) calling, "Daaaaddyy? Can I have an English Muffin, please?" And Gregg would get up, toast muffins, spread butter or jam on them, and deliver them to both kids in the playroom, with a glass of milk for each. He loved waiting on them; they loved "working" him.
Katie could eat her muffin and still use the video controller. You can see her quilt (the original inspiration for all of the others) on her lap; temporary tattoos on her arm (a birthday gift), a mouth full of muffin and her beloved Panda bear at her back. Good times!