𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀'𝐒

Mad

Kids will be kids. I know that, but the twins are at an age where they're out drinking and partying etcetera. They're allowed to do so but I have rules. They're back on time for their curfew, they're being responsible and if they're partying or drinking it's not on a school night.

Matteo is a good kid. He doesn't like partying, he works hard and he follows the rules we set for him and his sister. He's a respectful kid. He just gets on with it.

His sister, on the other hand, is a whole other story. She's so rebellious and never wants to fucking listen. I'm patient with my kids. Especially when it comes to her but lately she has been pushing my buttons. My wife seems to think it's just a phase but all phases end. Her doesn't seem to end though. It's always one thing after the other.

Like the other day I asked her to help me with dinner but she refused claiming she had homework. I let her be but when I left the kitchen while dinner was cooking I found her lazy ass on the couch scrolling through her phone.

Anyways, my wife is sick and has been in bed all day. I've been taking care of her while working from home and keeping an eye on the twins in case they need anything.

I'm stressed as fuck right now. I have a business trip tomorrow but if River isn't better by then, then I'm
not going. There's a lot of work to do to prepare for the trip but I've only got like a quarter of it done. Shit.

"Hey, Dad," My sixteen year old son comes into the living room where I am working and sits down beside me with his school bag on his lap. "Could you sign this permission slip?"

"What's this for?" I ask, keeping my focus on my laptop screen as I take the letter from him.

"My history class is going to Paris in two weeks." He replies.

I take my glasses from my shirt and put them on to read the letter. "Give me your report card." I tell him, placing my laptop on the coffee table.

He digs into his bag and retrieves a folded piece of paper "Here." He says, handing it to me.

As I am reading through his report card, the front door open and closes again. "Can you sign this Dad?" Reyna asks, walking into the living room where we are. Why she got home from school half an hour later than usual is beyond me.

"Paris trip?" I ask, taking the letter from her as I read the last bit of Matteo's report card. Straight A's apart from his B in English. All I ask of the kids is for them to get at least two A's per term if they want anything in return. I'd say that's fair.

"Yes." She replies.

"Get me a pen." I say to Matteo and he grins, grabbing one from his bag. I turn my focus onto Reyna and ask, "Can I see your report card?"

"I guess." She mutters, taking her bag off her back and opening it to retrieve her report card.

"Here, kid," I say, handing Matteo his permission slip after signing it. "You have enough money on your card to pay for this?"