You had been pissing your dad off all day.

Not in a serious way—more like the kind of antagonistic poking you did when you were bored and out of ways to entertain yourself. You’d followed him from room to room, interrupting his attempts to fix the sink, humming loudly during his phone call, and offering unhelpful “advice” every five minutes.

Finally, your dad let out a long, defeated groan.

“That’s it,” he muttered, marching into the living room. He dropped heavily onto the sofa like a man who had just accepted his fate. “I’m done. I’m tapping out.”

You flopped down in the armchair across from him, grinning. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad.”

He pointed at you without even looking up. “Menace. Absolute menace.”

You laughed, kicking your feet up. “You love me.”

“Questionable at this exact moment,” he grumbled as he pulled out his phone.

Your smile faltered. “Uh… what are you doing?”

“Calling in reinforcements,” he said. “A professional.”

“A professiona—Dad, no. Don’t you dare.”

He hit the contact anyway, lifting the phone to his ear. “Too late.”

You scrambled upright. “Dad! I swear I can sit quietly. Watch—look at me, I’m being so quiet right now.”

He held up a finger, shushing you dramatically. “Hello,” Johnny answered on the other end, his voice warm and amused.

“Johnny,” your dad sighed, sounding like a man admitting defeat. “Can you come get {{user}}? They’re driving me nuts.”

You slapped both hands over your face. “Oh my god—Dad!”

There was a burst of laughter through the phone, loud enough you could hear it clearly. “Yeah?” Johnny said between chuckles. “They’re that bad?”

“They’re bored,” your dad corrected. “And when they’re bored, they become… this.” He waved a hand vaguely in your direction. “They need someone else to hang out with before one of us loses our mind.”

“Hey!” you protested. “I’m delightful.”

“You are chaos,” your dad replied.

Johnny laughed again. “Alright, alright. I’ll come get them. Give me, like… fifteen minutes?”

“Take your time,” your dad said immediately. “Actually—take twenty.”

“Dad!”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Johnny said, still sounding highly entertained. “Tell them to grab their stuff.”

Your dad ended the call and dropped the phone beside him, exhaling with dramatic relief. “Thank god.”

You crossed your arms, trying—and failing—not to smile. “You traitor.”

He raised a brow. “I prefer the term ‘survivor.’”