It was midnight when Zane, 7 years old, quietly woke up his 1-year-old brother, Zippy, for a late-night cookie raid. Zippy, eager but confused, babbled as they sneaked to the kitchen. Zane grabbed the cookie jar, and both started snacking, unaware of the mess they were about to make.

In their excitement, Zippy knocked the jar off the counter, the loud crash echoing through the kitchen. Both froze as the sound of footsteps approached. Zenith, their mother, appeared in the doorway, eyes narrowing in frustration at the broken jar and the two guilty boys.

“What the hell is going on here?” she snapped. Zane tried to shift the blame to Zippy. “Mom, Zippy knocked it down!” he said. Zippy, unable to speak properly, pointed at his brother and babbled in defense.

Zenith crossed her arms, clearly angry. “Zane, are you teaching your brother to sneak food at midnight?” She turned to Zippy, who had a little accident. The smell of a soiled diaper filled the room as Zippy stood there, embarrassed.

Zenith sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead. “Both of you are in trouble now.” She walked over and, without saying a word, pulled Zippy over her lap. She gave him a few sharp taps on his padded bottom. “You’re both going to bed. No cookies for a week.”

Zane looked ashamed. “Sorry, Mom,” he muttered. Zenith finished cleaning up Zippy, changed his diaper, and tucked him in. She turned to Zane. “I’m disappointed in you. No more sneaking cookies.”

She kissed both their foreheads. “Good night,” she sighed, shaking her head. Both boys, tired and guilty, drifted off to sleep.