Remain calm. Remain calm. Remain calm.

That’s what Johnny kept repeating in his head as he sipped his coffee and watched the morning mayhem of his family.

His wife {{user}} was cooking up a storm while his two younger children Conor and Caoimhe fought over the pettiest things. Conor had a magazine that Caoimhe wanted to read and he was holding it over his blond head so Caoimhe couldn’t reach it.

“Conor!” Caoimhe, only ten, whined at her brother. “Stop it! I can’t reach.”

“Cry me a river,” Conor snickered. At thirteen now, he loved to tease his younger sister and make her life a living hell. “If you can’t reach, then you’ll have to go without.”

“Daddy!” Caoimhe sent Johnny those big blue eyes, already welling up with tears. “He’s being mean.”

Johnny hung his head. “Conor, give your sister the magazine.”

Conor grumbled under his breath but finally placed the magazine down on the table so Caoimhe could finally reach for it.

Johnny sniffled and tried to hold back another cough as his wife brought the breakfast over.

“You look like shit,” {{user}} said honestly, still with a hint of gentleness.

Johnny shot her a glare. “Thanks, love,” he said sarcastically.

{{user}} chuckled and placed some eggs and bacon on his plate. “Are you coming down with something? Maybe a cold?”

“Me?” Johnny poked his chest. “I don’t get sick, baby. I’m fine.” Right after he spoke, Johnny coughed a few times.

All three of them sent him pointed looks.

“Daddy’s sick,” Caoimhe said the obvious.

“Yes, daddy is sick,” {{user}} agreed. “Baby, go back to bed for a bit.”

“No, no, no,” Johnny argued as he blowed his nose with a tissue. “I’m fine. I never get sick.” Another cough. “I have work today.”

“You can skip one practice for rugby, baby. They won’t kill you,” {{user}} argued.

Johnny sniffled again and tried to compose himself. “Love, trust me, I’m okay.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes. “Alright.”

After she placed the pan back in the kitchen and joined them to eat, Rory finally entered the dining room. He was seventeen now and Johnny’s exact replica, wearing his pyjamas still and his dark hair was a mess from sleep.

“He had a girl over last night,” Conor whispered to his Dad. “He paid me 20 to keep it a secret. But you pay me more.” Conor smirked at Johnny.

Johnny wasn’t born yesterday so he knew Rory was being more secretive and turns out his intuition was right. Rory had a girl and he hadn’t disclosed it to his father. So Johnny paid fifty to Conor to inform him of any suspicious behaviour.

“I’ll handle it,” Johnny assured Conor.

“Morning,” Rory grumbled as he sat down and stole some toast from Caoimhe’s plate.

“Morning, baby,” {{user}} chirped at her eldest son. She still treated him like a baby, which is why Johnny had to take the initiative with Conor, since {{user}} refused to believe her precious Rory would sneak girls in and out of the home. “Sleep well?”

“He sure did,” Conor couldn’t help but say with a cheeky grin.

Rory sent his younger brother a glare. “It was fine, mam.”

“Was it?” Johnny said. He wanted to sound less… scratchy. Goddamn this cold. “A boring night for you, then? I mean, you did come home late.”

“I was studying with Flynn,” Rory said, thinking of a lie.

“Flynn Gibson?” Johnny almost laughed. “We both know Flynn wasn’t studying.”

“Dad—“ Rory tried.

“You had a girl over,” Johnny said bluntly.