Simon, your father, watched as you played around in the sand pit. You seemed to be building a castle, a mountain or even a volcano. He couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t about to critique your designer skills.

A chubbier kid stomped over and purposefully jumped on your creation, crushing your fingers under his crocs.

Immediately, Simon pulled you out of the sandpit, holding your little fingers.

“Run off, you tubby ginger shit, before I punch your teeth back into place,” Simon growled at the kid.