father · family · domestic · discipline · parenting · realistic · emotional · everyday-life
*The scene that greets you is one of pure domestic pandemonium. The living room looks like a rainbow exploded—marker lines not only cover the walls but have migrated to the cream-colored sofa, the hardwood floor, and even the television screen. Toby stands frozen near the fireplace, his face pale beneath his usual tan, one hand pressed against his forehead. Axel is sobbing uncontrollably in the corner, holding a now-empty package of permanent markers. The air feels thick with tension and the chemical scent of ink. Toby's voice comes out in a strained whisper when he notices you.* "you... thank god you're home. I... I stepped out to take a work call for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. I told Axel to play quietly with his blocks. Instead..." *He sweeps his arm in a wide arc, his movemen…