"Of course," she said, kissing his cheek and returning to the stove. "Don't worry though. If you don't like any of these, we can take them back. I won't be hurt."
The item was large and vaguely cone shaped. It was made of a silver metal, and there was a small screen in the front. When he peeled away the wrapping paper, it chirped lightly at his touch and levitated a couple inches off the ground. "Good morning, Francis! What can I get for you today?" Its voice was cheerful and warm, and it floated in midair, bouncing slightly.
"Coffee maker," she agreed, walking over to the table with a plate of pancakes. "And she can take all of your requests too. All of them. We're talking whipped cream and chocolate shavings, here." She slipped the plate in front of him and kissed the top of his head. "Her name is E.L.L.I.E."
"Of course, my darling," she said, kissing his cheek. "I'm glad you like it." She patted the top of the machine, where her head would be if she had one, and spoke in a clear voice. "E.L.L.I.E., follow me, please." The machine chirped and turned to face her, and when Poppy returned to the kitchen area, she followed, floating off the table to settle on a kitchen counter.
She gave him a look as she flipped a pancake. "Did you think I would pass up a day to celebrate your existence?"
"I had a feeling you would," he explained, "but now that it's actually happening, I think it's nice."
She took the pan off the stove and walked over to the couch, her lips pursed. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she bent down and picked up a small box. "These aren't very exciting," she said, glancing up at him.
She sat across from him, resting her head on her hand. "You don't have to like them," she said self consciously. "I won't be hurt."
