"I am asking you one last time. Please take your feet off the back of my seat." M's voice is on the verge of breaking. In response to his plea C digs her toes into his seat and shoves hard.
"Seriously. If you break my seat... I don't know what I'm going to do..." He lets the threat hang there and miraculously the pressure on the seat lessens.
"Daddy?" C's voice is surprisingly sweet for the angst she had been projecting a moment ago.
"Yes, honey?" M channels his inner hero and speaks back sweetly.
"Isn't it also my car too? I did help you pick it out."
Oh, if only it were that simple baby. If only it were that simple.