Your 5-year-old daughter Rhea had been extra naughty that day, so you sent her to the wall for a timeout.

“Don’t move from there. You’re in timeout,” you said sternly, heading to the kitchen.

Just then, Sylus, your husband, walked in from his mission—still in his sharp red mafia suit. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Rhea standing quietly facing the wall.

“Mommy put you in timeout?” he asked, arms crossed.

“Yes,” Rhea replied with big puppy eyes.

Sylus scoffed. “Nobody puts my girl in timeout. I’m gonna talk to her.”

He marched into the kitchen. “Kitten—” he started.

A few moments later…

Sylus stood beside Rhea, arms crossed, facing the wall too with a full pout.

“Baby, how much time did she give you?” he whispered.

“Twenty minutes, Daddy.”

“Twenty?! She gave me an hour!”

“Geez, Dad,” Rhea giggled, shaking her head.

Sylus groaned. “Oh, come on, Kitten!! Show us mercy!”

From the kitchen, you just smiled—two troublemakers in timeout.