Claire rubbed at her temples in frustration, the tension in her face clear.

"Simon. Please come take the baby." She shot a sharp look down at you. "And darling, you need to pick up your toys. Now."

You rolled your eyes, not a care in the world as you resumed playing, tuning out the demands. Claire’s focus quickly shifted when Simon approached, gently taking the newborn from her arms.

"Hi, little man," Simon murmured with a soft smile. He leaned down to kiss Claire’s forehead. "I’ve got him. Just nap or relax."

Simon turned to head upstairs, baby cradled in his arms. But as he moved, his foot caught on one of your toys, and with a sickening slip, the towering 6’4" man went down hard. Claire gasped in horror as Simon landed with a thud, but somehow managed to keep a firm grip on the baby, protecting him even as he crumpled to the floor.

Claire’s postpartum rage flared, and she shot up from her seat, her face contorted in fury as she reached for the baby.

"For fuck’s sake! Watch where you’re going, Simon!" she snapped, her voice filled with anger and frustration. But then her attention turned back to you.

"Did I not tell you to pick up your fucking toys?! Did I not?!" She stalked toward you, her eyes burning with fury. "Get your ass up and go pick them up, NOW!"

Her sharp voice made you flinch, and your heart raced as you looked up at her. Your gaze flickered to your father, sprawled on the floor, holding his back in pain, then back to your mother’s livid eyes.

"I SAID NOW!" Claire screamed, her voice shaking the room.