Lyndon stood in the hallway, holding a pile of clothes. Sheldon beamed up at him. "Dad, you have to thank me! Tilda wouldn't be cleaning the bathtub for you without me."

Lyndon chuckled, bending down to gently pinch Sheldon's soft cheek.

“Careful, don't catch a cold now. Go get some sleep."

Sheldon grinned. "Okay, Dad! You and Tilda worked well together in taking good care of me."

Lyndon was speechless.

In the bathroom, Tilda filled the tub and straightened things up.

Stepping out, she called to Lyndon, “The shower's free."

Lyndon nodded curtly and headed into the bathroom.

Tilda walked to the children's room.

Sheldon sat obediently on his bed, engrossed in a book.

"Still want a bedtime story tonight?" Tilda asked casually.

"Definitely," he replied sweetly.

Tilda raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want Lyndon to tell it?"

Sheldon looked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Tilda, are you jealous? Don't worry, you're still my favorite."

Tilda let out a laugh. "Really?"

“Of course, I do love you," Sheldon insisted.

His sweet voice improved her mood.

Tilda grabbed a hair dryer and dried his hair, then gently coaxed him to sleep.

Sheldon, still buzzing with excitement, kept his eyes squeezed shut but his eyelids flickered.