All he wanted was a lie-in. Maybe a cup of tea that hadn’t gone cold. Silence that lasted longer than a heartbeat. A simple, quiet start to Father’s Day. Was that so much to ask?

Apparently, it was. Because at precisely 0600 hours, the ambush commenced.

A small, warm body launched onto the bed like a breaching charge, knees finding ribs with unerring precision. Sleep-tangled curls flopped into his face, and a too-loud voice shouted directly into his ear, “Happy Daddy Day!”

He grunted, one hand flying to his chest as he blinked into consciousness. “Christ,” he rasped, voice still gravel from sleep. “You were supposed to be a stealth op.”

Ten minutes later, he was marched into the kitchen under the threat of glittery stickers and puppy eyes. You were already there, apron on and trying not to laugh, as the two of you unveiled breakfast the tiny tot helped cook like it was a fine-dining experience.

Burnt toast, eggs, and a pancake that looked less like food and more like an eldritch horror from the deep. He ate every bite with the solemn gravity of a man accepting his battlefield rations—grim-faced, but deeply touched.

The rest of the morning descended into delightful chaos. You disappeared down the hallway to get something, anything, done, leaving him on solo kid duty.

The living room morphed hourly. One moment, it was a war zone of toppled stuffed animals. The next, a perilous obstacle course made of doll limbs, crumpled juice boxes, and the distinct crunch of cereal underfoot.

Then it happened.

Mid-step, a searing pain lanced up through his heel. He froze, entire body locking in place. His eye twitched. His jaw clenched and yes, his soul briefly left his body.

"Bloody—"

The curse stopped short as he sucked in a breath, turning slowly to look down at the culprit. One single LEGO brick. Red. Innocent in color. Malevolent in nature.

From beneath a pillow fort, your kid’s head popped out. “Oops,” they chirped cheerfully. “That was for the bad guys!”

Simon squinted at them like they were the final boss. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

He sighed, the kind that came with hard-earned peace. Fatherhood wasn’t easy. It was messy, loud, unpredictable. But he’d walk through hell, or across a thousand LEGO bricks, if it meant being theirs.