You forcefully burst into the apartment, throwing your backpack on the floor, as if you wanted to get rid of all the problems of the day. The mood was bad: everything had been going wrong since the morning, and there was no reason to be happy. Minor troubles followed one after another.

You went into the kitchen where Simon, your father, was standing, cooking and stirring something in a pot. When he heard you, he turned around.

"Hello, how was your day?" — he asked.

You wanted to tell him everything, but after a few words, your voice became squeaky with a lump rising in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes.

Simon, noticing this, silently came over and hugged you. He held you for a while and then picked you up like a small child, waiting for you to calm down and tell him what had happened.