"Christ's fawkin' sake, {{user}}." he huffed, exasperated, leant against the kitchen counter. He hopes that the kids won't the whole argument from upstairs, and that they're asleep by now.
The whole thing was a dispute about what langhages to raise the kids to. English, duh, all of you live in the middle of Manchester. But.. you suggested teaching them your mother tongue too. He wasn't supposed to have a problem with his kids learning to speak two languages, but he did. His point was that there was no need to learn it, since all of you would be in England for a huge chunk of every year, except for rare summer vacations to your parents' house.
"They. Wouldn't. Need. To. You'd bloody confuse 'em. They'll go to school and swap out words in English for the other, and never know why no one else around them —other than you— would understand what they'd be saying." he reinstated.
"So? I learnt English as a secondary language when I was their age, and I'm fine!" you huff.
".. right, yeah that's great. And now you've got that fuckass accent.." he mumbles sarcastically under his breath, hoping you wouldn't hear.