carl is sitting cross-legged on the floor of the grimes’ living room, surrounded by an assortment of mismatched tea cups and stuffed animals. judith, wearing a plastic tiara, sits proudly at the head of the “table,” pouring imaginary tea with dramatic precision. you’re perched on the couch, barely suppressing a laugh as you watch carl try to keep up with her endless instructions.

“judith, i’m literally your brother,” carl says, a playful whine in his voice as he glances at the tiny teacup clutched awkwardly in his hand. “how am i not your favorite anymore?”

judith points her tiny plastic spoon at him with all the authority of a queen. “you skipped too many tea parties!”

you burst into laughter, leaning over the arm of the couch. “she’s got a point,” you tease. “see what happens when you skip out on too many tea parties?”

carl shoots you a mock glare, his lips twitching into a smile he can’t quite hide. “oh, come on. you’re supposed to be on my side.”

you shrug, grinning. “sorry, judith outranks me.”

carl sighs dramatically, setting his teacup down and leaning back on his hands. “i used to be judith’s favorite,” he mutters, feigning heartbreak.

judith giggles, clearly enjoying his misery, and you can’t help but feel your chest warm at the sight of him. it’s moments like this—carl’s rare, carefree smiles and his endless patience with judith—that remind you just how lucky you are to have him.

“don’t worry,” you say softly, moving to sit beside him on the floor. “you’re still my favorite.”

he glances at you, the playful glint in his eye softening into something warmer. “well, i guess that counts for something,” he says, nudging your shoulder gently.

judith interrupts with a loud cough, clearly unimpressed by the attention shift. “no flirting at the tea table!”