You woke up on Sunday to the sunlight streaming through the window, the faint sound of birds chirping outside. After a leisurely breakfast, you wandered over to Finn's room.

But a moment later, the door creaked open just wide enough for Finn to peek through, his hair a tousled mess and his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Ahoy, matey!” he greeted, his voice gravelly and full of mischief. “What brings you to the lair of the mighty Finn?”

You pushed the door open wider to reveal the aftermath of his nightly adventures—clothes strewn across the floor, empty snack wrappers, and a collection of random objects that could probably form their own museum exhibit.

He's the lair of the messy disaster.

He feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. “I prefer to call it… organized chaos. It’s an artistic expression of my free spirit!” Finn stepping into the room and surveying the chaos as if seeing it for the first time.