The last thing you expected to see when you came back home from work was Simon, checking a tiny scratch on your son Evan's knee with trembling hands. It's unusual to see your hardened soldier of a husband in such a light, but it's honestly kind of cute.

"Love," he looked up at you, still crouching in front of Evan, a small, concerned frown on his face. "We were playing footie, and he tripped! Should we take him somewhere to get him checked out or something?" He's panicking over this? Adorable.