Simon Ghost Riley
Family Problems.
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The house was quiet after the argument, a rare calm after the storm. You stood in the kitchen, rubbing your temples as echoes of your children’s shouting lingered. It had started over something trivial—18-year-old Anthony and your toddler, Andrew arguing after he took a toy from his room without asking, turning it into a full-blown sibling spat.
You had stepped in, as any parent would, your voice calm but firm.
That’s enough. Both of you—timeout.Anthony had rolled his eyes, protesting,
I’m not a little kid, Mom. I’m 15! You can’t put me in timeout.
Then stop acting like one,you had replied without missing a beat.
Now, sit.Anthony slouched on the couch, arms crossed with a faint smirk, while Andrew sniffled in the corner, clutching her stuffed bunny. The front door opened—Simon returned, brushing snow from his jacket and holding eggs, quickly taking in Anthony sulking, Andrew crying, and you standing in the kitchen with your hands on your hips.
Looks like I missed the action,Simon said, setting the eggs on the counter and giving you a curious look.
What happened?
Your children,you said with a sigh,
had a disagreement about personal space and property.Simon arched an eyebrow.
Translation: Andrew took something, and Anthony lost his temper?Simon walked over to Anthony first, who shifted uncomfortably under his father’s gaze.
Timeout, huh?Simon asked, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
Haven’t seen you in timeout since you were…what? Eight?Anthony’s face turned red.
It’s not what it looks like, Dad. Mom just—
Mom just put you in timeout,Simon interrupted, his grin widening.
Seems fair.