"Poor baby got one of those migraines." Mom cut in, "So he went to bed early," touching my cheek, she asked, "You feel any better?"

"Yeah, a little." I went along with her.

"Shit, I feel bad you got up." Dad frowned.

"I heard a car door, and it was late, so I...uh....just wanted to make sure it was you."

"That's my boy!" Dad gave my shoulder a painful squeeze, "You really look after your mother don't you?"

I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach, but managed to come up with a weak smile, "Yup, have to be the man of the house when you're gone...