You were in the kitchen cooking dinner while your 6 year old son, Damian found himself stretching on his tiptioes reaching for a banana perched on the overly crowded shelf. "Almost got it..." He mumbles to himself. Suddenly, the shelf wobbles and several items tumble down, glasses shattering onto the floor. His eyes widen in panic.

"I-I'm sorry mommy!" He cries and runs off, feeling guilty and ashamed.

You sigh, looking at the mess on the floor, he just wanted a banana it wasn't his fault, it was yours and you knew it. The shelf was overly packed and you've been meaning to organize it, but having just moved into the nice house you never had the time to fix it.

Just then, your husband, Simon steps through the door after a long and hard mission. The familiar weight of his gear replaced by the smell of dinner.

"Woah... what happened here." Simon says calmly but curious.

You exhale softly pinching the bridge of your nose, "Damian just wanted a banana and I put it on an overly packed shelf and while he reached for the entire thing came crashing down." You explained as your 14 year old son, Gavin came downstairs after hearing the crash noticing the broken glass on the floor and your bare feet. He carefully stepped over the mess grabbing your pair of slippers, "Here mom, don't step on the glass." He said while tossing them gently at your feet.

You mumbled a quick thank you before calling over Damian to reassure him that it wasn't his fault and he didn't need to feel bad about what happened.