No More “Shoulds”: When Anton walked into the kitchen and saw three plates of dried-up pasta, an overturned yoghurt pot, and an open exercise book, he was too tired to tell Vera or Kostya off. Instead, he just started tidying up. Vera didn’t look up from her phone, Kostya’s rucksack was in the middle of the hallway, and Anton was worn out from work and his mother’s demands. The family drifted through their routines—homework, chores—but no one talked about what mattered. But that evening, Anton chose honesty over duty. He called everyone to the kitchen—not to nag, but to talk. They sat together: Vera defensive, Kostya wary, Anton uncertain. For once, they spoke not about “what needs to be done” but about how they were actually feeling. Anton admitted his fears: money problems, job cuts, his mother’s health, and most of all, the worry that his children were struggling and he didn’t even know it because he was too busy pretending all was well. Kostya confessed he was being teased at school and couldn’t sleep. Vera admitted she didn’t want to go to college and felt lost, but everyone around her seemed to have their lives planned out. Anton told them he didn’t always cope either. For a while, they just sat with the truth in the silence. Then, together, they washed the dishes—not out of duty, but because they chose to share the work. That night, for the first time, the silence in their home felt full of possibility, not emptiness. Anton realised you don’t have to have all the answers to be a good parent. Sometimes, it’s enough to simply show up, be honest, and face the unknown together—without the weight of “shoulds” hanging over you.

Without must

David walked into the house and saw three plates with dried-up pasta on the kitchen table, an overturned yoghurt pot, and an open maths exercise book. Charlies rucksack was sprawled across the hallway carpet, and Grace was curled up on the sofa, glued to her phone.

He put his bag down and kicked off his shoes. He thought about mentioning the plates but a wave of tiredness made his throat close up, so instead, he walked over, picked up a plate, and carried it to the sink.

Ill do it in a sec, Dad, Grace called out, not looking up.

Alright.

He turned on the tap and let the water run over the plate. The pasta dislodged and started swirling towards the drain. He turned the water off and just stood, staring at the wet crockery.

Grace, wheres Charlie?

In his room. Doing maths.

And you?

Ive finished already.

He wiped his hands and wandered into Charlies room. His son was lying on the rug, propping his head up with his fist, half a sum written in his exercise book.

Hey, lad, David said.

Hi.

Hows it going?

Okay.

Homework?

Getting on with it.

David perched on the edge of the bed. Charlie glanced at him, then looked away, back to his notebook.

Whats up, Dad?

I dont really know, David admitted. Im just tired, I suppose.

He truly wasnt sure. His mum had called that morning, wanting him to come over and help clear out her wardrobe. Then work meetings had dragged on until after six, and hed spent the tube ride home wedged against the doors. Now he was sitting in Charlies room, realising he didnt want to nag about plates or homework or tidiness. He didnt want to be the sort of man who came home and switched straight into parenting mode.

Listen, can we all meet in the kitchen for a bit? he said. Just us.

Why?

Just to chat.

Charlie pulled a face. Because of my English mark again?

No, not that. Just to talk.

But Ive not finished my homework.

Five minutes wont hurt. You can finish after.

He got up and called for Grace. She looked up; there was a sigh.

Seriously?

Seriously.

She hurled her phone onto the sofa and followed. Charlie emerged from his room and stopped at the kitchen doorway, almost hesitant.

David sat at the table and scooted the exercise book aside. Grace took the seat opposite, Charlie perched nervously on the edge of his chair.

Whats going on? Grace asked.

Nothings happened.

Then whats this about?

David looked at her, then at Charlie, whose eyes were wide, clearly bracing himself for trouble.

I just want to talk, David said. Honestly. No you must do your homework, no you must do the dishes, none of that.

So, we dont have to do the washing-up? Charlie asked, a little too hopeful.

We can do that later. This is about something else.

Grace folded her arms across her chest. Youre acting weird, Dad.

Weird, he agreed. Probably because Im fed up pretending everything is alright.

They all fell silent. His mind was empty, but he tried anyway.

I dont really know how to say this, he started. But I think were all just pretending. I come home, you two act like things are fine. I act like I believe it. We talk about school, teareally, we dont talk at all.

Dad, youre making this heavy, Grace murmured. Why?

I suppose because Im struggling and Im scared you two are as well, and Ive no idea what with.

Charlie furrowed his brow.

Im fine, he said.

Really? David asked him gently. Then why the last couple of weeks youve only managed to get off to sleep after midnight?

Charlie went silent, eyes fixed on the table.

I hear you turning over, David said softly. And in the morning, you look done in.

I just dont feel sleepy.

Charlie.

What, Dad?

Just tell me the truth, mate.

Charlie jerked his shoulders and turned away.

Schools fine. I do my homework. What more do you want?

Its not the homework Im asking about.

Grace broke in: Dad, why are you interrogating him?

Im not interrogating. I just want to understand.

He doesnt want to talk. Thats his right.

David turned to her. Then you tell me. How are you?

She gave a wry little smile. Me? Fine. School, friends. All as it should be.

Grace.

She went quiet, looking away.

What?

You barely leave the house at all these days. You turned down your mates twice last month.

So what? Didnt fancy it.

Why not?

She pressed her lips together.

Im tired of them, all their talk about boys and silly nonsense. Alright?

Alright, he said. Only, to me, you seem sad.

She tossed her head, as if to brush something off.

Im not sad.

Okay.

He let the silence settle. Only the fridge humming in the corner filled the space.

Look, he said, slow and careful, Im not here to lecture you or have you reassure me. I just want you to know: Im scared. Every single day. I worry about money, worry about Grandma getting ill and keeping quiet about it, worry about getting laid off work. Im scared you both are struggling and Im too wrapped up in myself to notice. And Im tired of pretending Ive got it all under control.

Graces eyes blinked wide as she studied him.

But youre the adult, she said quietly, Youre supposed to cope.

I know. But I cant always do it.

Charlie looked up.

And what if you cant?

I dont know, David admitted, I guess Id have to ask for help.

From who?

You two, for starters.

Charlie frowned. But we’re just kids.

You are, yes. But youre still part of this family. Sometimes I just need you to tell me the truth. Not Im alright, but really how it is.

Grace traced a finger over imaginary crumbs on the table.

Why do you need to know?

So I don’t feel alone.

She lifted her eyes and, for a moment, he recognized something like understanding there.

Im scared to go to school, Charlie blurted suddenly. Some boy keeps calling me thick. Every day. Everyone laughs.

David felt his heart squeeze painfully.

Whats his name?

Im not telling. Youll get involved and make it worse.

I wont. Promise.

Charlie looked doubtful.

Really?

Really. But you need to know youre not alone.

Charlie nodded, dropping his head.

Im not. Theres Tom. Hes alrightI sit with him.

Good.

Grace sighed.

I dont want to go to sixth form college, she whispered. Everyone asks me where Im heading next, and I have no idea. Feels like I wont go anywhereIm useless at everything.

Grace, youre fourteen.

So? Everyones decided already. Except me.

Not everyone.

Everyone I know.

He paused.

When I was your age, I wanted to be a geologist. Changed my mind. Changed it again. Now Im doing something totally different.

And is it okay?

Some days. Some days its tough. Thats life, isnt it? Its not meant to be all figured out.

She nodded, uncertain.

But everyone says you have to make your mind up.

They say that, he agreed, but thats them. Not you.

She almost smiled as she met his gaze.

Youre different tonight, Dad.

Just tired of getting it ‘right’ all the time.

Charlie snorted. Can I ask you a question?

Go ahead.

Are you really scared?

Yes. I am.

What do you do when youre scared?

David thought for a moment.

Get up in the morning and just get on with things. Even when I dont know if itll work. I just do it anyway.

Charlie nodded.

I get it.

They sat there quietly. David knew nothing was solved. He hadnt given any answers or eased the worries. But something had shifted: hed shown he could be a real person, not just a role, and theyd responded in kind.

Alright, Grace said, getting up, Lets get the washing-up done.

Ill help, Charlie offered.

Me too, David added.

They stood. Grace turned on the tap, Charlie fetched the sponge, and David grabbed the tea towel. They worked together, not talking, but it was a different kind of silence. Not empty, but full.

When the last plate was placed in the rack, Grace dried her hands and looked at her father.

Dad, can we talk like this again? Sometimes.

Of course, he said. Whenever you want.

She nodded and went off to her room. Charlie lingered, shuffling his feet.

Thanks for not having a go at that boy, he said.

But if it gets really bad, will you tell me?

I will.

Come on then, lets finish my maths.

They went into Charlies room and sat side by side on the floor. David took the notebook, glanced at the sums. Charlie shuffled closer, and they worked through the problems togetherno rush, just quietly as usual. But now, David realised, behind the sums was a boy who felt afraid, and that he could be there, not just to check the work, but as someone who was also afraid and still got up each morning.

It wasnt much, but it was a start.