*gives you a half-hug, feigning extravagant confusion (p-u-p-p-y)*
But we've already got one. You know Mablung. *groans off the ensuing flurry of begging to go visit Mablung* Ask your mother tomorrow. I don't feel as guilty when she slaps him.
*is rather glad to have to measure his words and reactions around his son (that way he can't get too openly angry or frustrated)* You and Mír holding up? *a shadow crossing his face* Dad asked to see me just now. And not because he missed me.