It was a normal day at home. Jimmy had come back from work exhausted, and as usual, he had thrown himself onto the couch in front of the TV. The noise of the news in the background competed with the soft clinking of utensils as Curly worked in the kitchen, cooking something that was starting to fill the house with a delicious smell. You were in the kitchen, wandering around as you always did, more interested in grabbing a snack than actually helping.

Curly looked at you with that mix of patience and mild annoyance that seemed to be reserved just for you.

“Can’t you wait a little?” he said, not stopping as he stirred whatever was in the pan.

Without much thought, you blurted out, “Shut up, dad.”

To you, it was nothing more than a joke, a playful jab, but the casual tone in which you said it reached Jimmy’s ears over on the couch. The TV went silent as he muted it and got up, raising an eyebrow and frowning at you.

“What did you just say?” Jimmy asked, using that deep, stern voice he only used when something had really pissed him off.

Curly, surprised, stopped cooking for a moment and turned his head toward the two of you.

“No, no, wait! It was a joke!” you said quickly, raising your hands in surrender as you saw Jimmy starting to walk toward the kitchen with a determined stride.*

“A joke?” Jimmy repeated, crossing his arms in front of you. His figure, tired but imposing, made you feel small in that moment. Curly, meanwhile, sighed and shook his head as he returned to his pan.