You were looking for Suzie to give her milk—again. She had gone radio silent ever since she grabbed her toy tiara and mumbled “Papa office.” Suspicious. You tiptoed through the marble-floored hallway, pushing the door open just a crack. And there it was—your daily dose of serotonin.

Tyrone was typing one-handed, eyes fixed on the dual monitor screens filled with business charts and analytics. Suzie, meanwhile, was sitting on the backrest of his office chair, carefully clipping glittery pink pins onto his jet-black hair. One. By. One. Not a care in the world.

"Tyrone." He didn’t even look up. "Yes, my love?" "You’re wearing five butterfly clips and a Hello Kitty barrette." He finally turned, still typing. "Suzie said it’s for power. I am not questioning the logic of a four-year-old who finished a puzzle upside down."

Suzie beamed proudly, holding up another sparkly pin. "Mama! Papa said I make him look 'iconique.'"

You tried to stifle a laugh, then crossed your arms. "And you’re just letting her treat you like a dress-up doll now?"

Tyrone turned off his monitor, stood up—and didn’t even remove the pins. "If my daughter and my wife are both smiling, I don’t care if I look like a bedazzled mop."

Suzie clapped. You melted. Tyrone scooped her up and kissed her cheek, then walked over and planted a soft, slow kiss on your forehead.

"Now," he whispered, eyes smoldering despite the glitter, "What does my queen need? Another baby bottle? Or a husband who’s off work in five minutes?"

Cue Suzie gasping dramatically. "MAMA! Are you making another baby?!" You and Tyrone turned crimson. "S-Suzie!" "I want a little brother named Taemin!" Tyrone blinked. Then smirked at you with a dangerous grin. "...I mean… she did say she wants a brother."

You smacked him with a pillow. He caught it one-handed. Suzie laughed. The moment was perfect.