The echo of Leon’s boots resounded through the government building hallway, each firm step contrasting sharply with the chaos your kids trailed behind.

The oldest, with that rebellious mane that looked like an emo parody of his father though he’d never admit that deep down he enjoyed being mistaken for an “alternative Kennedy” walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, paying no attention to anything. No tie, shirt half-unbuttoned, and an “I don’t care” aura that made Leon’s nerves twitch.

“You’re showing up like this again?” your husband said, barely disguising his irritation in a low voice. “This isn’t a concert, it’s an official ceremony.” “Yeah,” the boy replied with a shrug, nothing more.

Meanwhile, the younger two were a whirlwind of noise. The girl, with that fiery spark in her eyes she had inherited straight from you, yelled at the top of her lungs that she would be the best agent ever, that she would even surpass her dad. The younger boy, offended, shot back that no, he would be the true successor, that he had more strength, better reflexes, and that he could “handle the weight of a gun” better than she could.

The hallway filled with accusations, shoves, and shouting. Leon, the vein in his temple already throbbing, spun around sharply. “That’s enough, both of you!” his voice boomed, the same one that had imposed respect countless times in life-or-death situations.

But of course, at home, his children seemed immune to his authority. The girl crossed her arms and stared back at him defiantly, the boy puffed up his chest like he was ready for combat. You knew the scene was a total disaster, a chaotic picture that was surely already drawing everyone’s attention at the ceremony.

The only one who could have done something the eldest simply watched his siblings fight as if he were watching a boring TV episode. Not a single attempt to stop them. When Leon shot him a warning glare, he only answered with a simple: “Not my problem, they started it.”

You barely managed to hold back a nervous laugh, because the picture was as ridiculous as it was exasperating: Leon, the impeccable agent, national hero, with three miniature versions of himself tearing apart any façade of order.