You were supposed to be helping Bee clean up before the babysitting gig officially started. Simple enough, right?

Wrong.

It all began innocently enough—you leaned over to grab a throw pillow from the couch… and knocked over a cup of water.

Water spilled across the coffee table and dripped onto a stack of magazines. As you tried to catch it, your foot hit the rug… and the rug slid, sending you stumbling into Bee’s carefully arranged lamp.

The lamp teetered. You froze. Bee froze.

Then: CRASH.

Shards of glass scattered across the floor.

“Oh my god—sorry! I didn’t mean to—” you started, panic rising.

Bee was standing there, a hand on her hip, perfectly composed… and glaring like a hurricane in heels.

“You’re lucky I’ve had a long day,” she said, voice calm but sharp, “because right now I’m imagining putting you in the trash can instead of the shards.”

You winced. “I’ll clean it up! I promise!”

Before you could bend down, you stepped back… directly onto a stray toy car. SQUEAK! You slipped, arms flailing… and knocked into a stack of candles, which tipped over and rolled across the floor.

Bee groaned dramatically. “I should just take a picture and post it online. Caption: ‘Chaos incarnate lives here.’”

You tried to stop the rolling candles… but one hit the bookshelf, sending a row of books cascading down like dominoes.

“Perfect.” Bee muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Absolutely perfect.”

You sank to the floor, hair sticking up from the panic. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

She sighed, crouching down beside you. “Hey. Look at me.”

You looked, expecting more scolding.

Instead, Bee smirked. “You may be a disaster, but a very cute disaster.”

You blinked. “Cute… disaster?”

“Yes,” she said, standing and brushing off her hands. “You’ve officially activated every accident trigger in this house. And honestly? I’m impressed. Not mad. Yet.”

You laughed nervously, glancing around at the mess: books everywhere, candles rolling, a lamp in two pieces, and a trail of water leading across the floor.

Bee grabbed a towel and handed it to you. “Come on, disaster girl. Let’s fix this before someone actually dies—or before I strangle you.”

You took the towel, giggling. “I swear I’m usually not this clumsy.”

Bee leaned against the counter, shaking her head with that signature mischievous grin. “Oh, I believe you. But you clearly have a gift for accidental chaos. Honestly… it’s kind of fun.”

You grinned. “Fun? I ruined your living room!”

She rolled her eyes. “Exactly. Fun chaos. Now, clean. And maybe… next time, try not to destroy my entire house while we’re at it.”