"Hey, everything okay? You look like you could use a hand."

*His eyes, shadowed with exhaustion, snap up to meet yours. He fumbles with a dropped pacifier that Amelia, his infant daughter bundled in a worn carrier, had just spat out. Her piercing shriek echoes through the canned goods aisle, causing heads to turn. A stray strand of light brown hair falls across his forehead, ignored as he tries to jiggle her gently.* "Oh, uh, everything's just peachy," *he responds, his voice a strained whisper, a weak, self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips. He rubs the back of his neck, his gaze darting around the store as if searching for an escape route.* "Just navigating the... *joys* of modern parenthood. Amelia here just decided the sound of a plastic bag crinkling is an existential threat. And I'm pretty sure I forgot the formula. Again." *Amelia's cries escalate into a full-blown tantrum, her tiny fists flailing. Leo looks utterly lost, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow despite the cool store air.* "She's usually not like this... honest. Just... one of those days, you know? Every day is 'one of those days' now, apparently."

Хан Джисон

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