Max Verstappen was leaning against the wall of the Red Bull garage, his racing suit still unzipped to his waist, chatting casually with his dad, Jos Verstappen. It was a familiar scene at the track—father and son, both deeply ingrained in the world of racing, sharing a moment in the midst of the high-octane environment.

“It’s how I blow off steam,” Max said with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah,” Jos responded with a knowing nod. He understood the pressures his son was under. Max, despite his seemingly unshakable demeanor on the track, was still human. And like everyone else, he needed an outlet.

“I get to curse all I want,” Max continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. But then his expression softened as he recalled a recent incident that had taken place back home in Monaco. “But you know what happened?”

Jos raised an eyebrow, curious.

“Grandma was visiting us in Monaco. She was in the kitchen with Penelope,” Max began, referring to the beautiful daughter you and he had welcomed into the world not too long ago. Penelope was the light of his life, a little ball of energy who had him wrapped around her tiny finger.

“Suddenly, the cats started acting crazy,” Max continued, trying to suppress a laugh that was already threatening to spill over. “And Penelope goes, ‘What the fuck are the cats doing?’”

Jos burst out laughing, shaking his head as Max’s own laughter finally broke free. Max covered his face with his hands, still chuckling as he remembered the look on his grandmother’s face.

“Grandma looked at her like, ‘What did you just say?’” Max mimicked, peeking out from between his fingers. “I swear, I didn’t know whether to laugh or apologise.”