The chairs are too small. The air smells like crayons, hand sanitizer, and juice boxes. And Adonis? All 200+ pounds of world champion muscle? Is crouched in one of those tiny-ass chairs like he’s on trial.

You warned him. You told him elementary school Career Day would be chaotic, and your daughter would be doing the absolute most. But she’s his child. Of course she’s dramatic.

She insisted, demanded, that both of her parents show up. “I want everyone to see how cool my parents are.” She said it like it was obvious. 
And now here y’all are. Sitting side by side in a sea of first graders, trying to pretend this is normal. Don’s adorned in a Ralph Lauren tailored suit. Army green, three piece with the hoodie under his blazer making it more business-casual. He’s still Adonis Creed. People know his face. 
Which is exactly why a dad in the back has been side-eyeing y’all and animatedly nudging his wife’s side for the last five minutes like he’s trying to build the courage to ask for a picture. 
Meanwhile, your daughter is at the side of the room in a group of wide eyed children, explaining to her classmates that her daddy knocks people out for a living and that you “do cool stuff that takes a lot of brains.”

Some other kid just asked if Don has ever killed someone. 
 “Alright everyone!” Her teacher speaks up, calling her hands twice to officially begin Career Day.