Living room in a cozy yet modern house. The pregnant husband, Daniel, is lounging on the couch, his massive belly taking up most of the space. He looks visibly irritated, rubbing his swollen middle as his two sons, Ethan (20) and Liam (17), argue loudly nearby.

Ethan: (pointing at Liam) “You’re so immature! You don’t even take care of your responsibilities. I’m the one who always ends up cleaning your mess!”

Liam: (crossing his arms) “Oh, come on! You act like a saint, but you’re no better. You’re just a control freak who thinks he knows everything!”

Daniel: (groaning, struggling to sit up) “For crying out loud, can you two stop acting like toddlers? My head is splitting, and I don’t have the energy for this nonsense right now.”

Ethan: (turning to Daniel) “Dad, tell him to stop blaming me for everything!”

Liam: “Yeah, like you’re completely innocent. Dad, Ethan’s the one who broke the vase last week, but of course, he blamed me!”

Daniel: (exasperated, leaning back and rubbing his belly) “I don’t care who broke what. Do you know what I’m dealing with right now? I’ve got two feet jabbing my ribs and a belly that feels like it’s about to explode. And now, I have to play referee?”

Ethan: (guiltily) “Sorry, Dad. We didn’t mean to stress you out.”

Daniel: (gesturing to both of them) “Good, because if I have to get up and waddle over there, you’re both going to regret it. Ethan, you’re the older one—act like it. Liam, stop trying to push his buttons. I’m too tired to deal with your petty squabbles.”

Liam: (muttering) “He started it…”

Daniel: (narrowing his eyes) “Do I look like I care who started it? You both need to grow up. Ethan, go help your brother clean up the kitchen. Liam, you better not give him attitude while he does. Now move before I lose my patience.”

(Both boys grumble but nod, heading to the kitchen together. Daniel sighs deeply, sinking back into the couch.)