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"Could you maybe drive just this week?"

"You say that every week," I said.

"Please, I hate driving, it stresses me out."

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes.

He always got what he wanted from me. I was supposedly stricter than Daddy when it came to those two, but with JJ I had basically no defenses at all and we both knew it.

We got to school, said goodbye, and put our adult faces on, because we didn't have a choice.

The day moved faster than I expected for a Monday. Classes were actually decent — I liked the high school groups best, because the younger kids were still in full chaos mode and needed me in drill sergeant mode constantly. The older ones were calmer, more genuinely interested, and actually wanted to get better at things. We played basketball, which was always a good day.

At lunch I sat with JJ and a few other teacher friends. We talked about students who were causing problems, about who was going to volunteer for the winter formal, about the Super Bowl. I loved watching sports, and somehow so did JJ — despite not playing anything and actively avoiding physical exertion in his daily life.

When the last bell went, I met JJ at the car and drove us home. By the time we got there I was worn out from a full day of being someone other than who I actually was. JJ felt the same way — I could tell by the way he sagged into the passenger seat for the last few minutes of the drive.

Daddy met us at the door and pulled both of us into a hug.

"I'm soooooo tired and so huuuungry, what's for a snack?" JJ started immediately.

"Change out of your school clothes first," Daddy said. "Then we eat, and you both tell me about your day."

"Can I play video games after?" I asked.

One eyebrow went up. He thought I spent too much time on video games, which, fair.

"You can, but only once everything else is done. Check the chore chart. And I want us to go for a walk later."

"But it's coooooold," JJ whined, fully back in baby mode within approximately ninety seconds of coming through the front door.

"I know, sweetheart, but exercise is good for us," Daddy said, with that bottomless patience of his.

That right there was why I always said I could never be JJ's Dom. Daddy had levels of patience I simply did not possess and never would.

"Daddy," JJ said, in the tone of someone about to broker a peace treaty, "can we all play together tonight?"

Daddy considered it for a second. JJ watched him, hopeful. I watched him too, if I was being honest.

"Yes," he said finally. "But only if you both behave."

"Deal!"

We changed clothes. JJ put on a T-shirt and the little shorts Daddy had already set aside for him. I went with jeans and a T-shirt — in our dynamic I was somewhere around twelve or thirteen, so I dressed accordingly. No little shorts for me.

We ate the peanut butter sandwiches and milk Daddy made for us, then went to check the chore chart on the fridge. Daddy wrote it out fresh every day. I got dishes and taking out the trash — not bad, all things considered. JJ had mopping the upstairs floors. Mikey, because he worked later, usually got lighter tasks.

"Chores are good for you," Daddy always said. "Builds responsibility."

I thought they were a pain, but they weren't negotiable, so there was no point whining about it the way JJ always did.

I finished mine quickly. Daddy reappeared and handed back the handheld console he'd confiscated the night before.

"One hour. That's it."

I tested him with a look. He gave me a steadier one back. I let it go.

"Fine," I said, and went to sprawl on the couch.