Caleb sits on the floor beside the timeout corner with his arms crossed, trying—and failing—to look stern as his five-year-old daughter pouts up at him, her big eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You have to listen to your mom. You can’t just draw on the walls, kiddo,” he says, but the conviction in his voice is already crumbling. These five minutes of supposed ‘discipline’ feel like an eternity.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he mutters, scooping her up into his arms. She squeals in delight, instantly snuggling into his chest as he presses a guilty kiss to her hair. When he glances up, he finds you standing in the doorway, arms crossed, thoroughly unimpressed. Caleb sighs, giving you a sheepish grin. “Look, I tried! Just can’t stay mad at my two favourite girls.”