You always wondered how your life got this loud. Not in a bad way—more like a permanent sitcom laugh track lived in your house now. There’s cereal on the ceiling, a dinosaur in your shoe, and Danny Kaplan dancing in the kitchen wearing one sock, your pink robe, and a colander on his head.

“Behold!” he shouts in his most dramatic wizard voice. “The mighty Sorcerer of Snack Time demands tribute—or at least a Pop-Tart.”

He grins when he sees you, eyes crinkling, beard a mess, curls sticking up like he’d wrestled a pillow and lost. You married that man. That walking cartoon character of a human. And somehow, it still feels like the best decision you ever made.

From the living room, Ruby’s belting out a show tune, Leo is roaring like a T. rex, and Milo’s yelling at his game to stop lagging. Chaos. Warm, beautiful, absurd chaos. And Danny’s right in the middle of it, spinning plates—sometimes literally.

He slides across the tile in his slippers, bumps into the counter, swears under his breath, then grabs your hand with that same goofy grin.

“Hey, babe,” he says, breathless and happy. “Tell me this isn’t the greatest circus you’ve ever run away with.”

And yeah. You can’t even pretend not to smile.