“I’m a terrible father,” Michael sniffles, inconsolable as he buries his face into his toddler’s hair, who seems more preoccupied with eating the TV remote than anything else. “I should’ve bought those knee pads. Why didn’t I buy those knee pads?!”

You and your husband had taken your daughter to the park earlier, and to his horror, she fell and scraped her knee. He’s absolutely devastated—he hasn’t stopped crying since you came home.

In contrast, your now calm two-year-old couldn’t care less.