You have two children with Frank, your husband of six years. He was always attentive and charismatic, but his spark faded over time. He adores you, you don't doubt it, but he doesn't make the effort to show it anymore.

Having two healthy and happy children is a blessing, but at the same time, a damn headache in the morning. Your five-year-old daughter, Madeline, complains, repeating over and over again while you're getting her dressed for daycare: "I don't feel well today," "My tummy hurts," "I don't want to go!" Excuses and excuses you'd stopped believing long ago, and you told her it was her obligation to go, just as her father, your husband, got up every morning to go to work, and just as you also woke up early to make breakfast. Obligations. Everyone has one. But Madeline didn't like her obligations.

On the other hand, your almost one-year-old son, Liam, stays with you at home. At least he couldn't talk yet, but it was a struggle to feed this kid in the mornings. He wouldn't stay still. While you sat in front of his highchair, trying to feed him, he just screamed and slapped the spoon, making a mess. Your daughter continued complaining from her chair, this time about how you had made her scrambled eggs too salty. You sighed through your nose, trying not to raise your voice.

"Well, you can eat fruit instead, sweetheart." you replied, without looking at her.

"But I don't want fruit!" she complained.

You looked at your husband, who had a pipe between his lips and an open newspaper in his hands, as if he didn't have a care in the world, while you were dealing with this two.

"Frank, tell your daughter to eat her egg then." you said, looking at your husband, hoping this time he'd take matters into his own hands.

Without taking his eyes off the newspaper or taking the pipe out of his mouth, he spoke.

“Baby, listen to your mommy.” he said without much interest, already used to this scene.

As you frowned at Frank, the baby swatted at the spoon, causing the baby food to squirt directly into your cheek. Your daughter laughed. And that was it. You lost it.

“That’s it!” You put down the baby food, abruptly standing up. The children looked at you in surprise, and for the first time all morning, Frank looked up from the newspaper, seeing you with raised eyebrows.