Due to her six-year-old and four-year-old sons, Han Kyung-Mi’s morning was quite busy.0

Before marriage, she had been quiet and timid, but because of her two mischievous children, she now often found herself shouting, “You little punk!”0

It hadn’t always been like this. Seeing them sleeping soundly had made her promise to herself that she would raise them with love probably more than a hundred times. However, as the years passed and the boys got older, things changed.0

One day, while wiping up a spill in the living room, she heard her eldest son, Cha Seung-Ho, shouting, “Fly, Pororo!”0

Soon after, she heard the dining table go crack!0

Han Kyung-Mi felt her heart drop to the floor with a thud. Cha Seung-Ho had managed to climb up to the sink and jumped onto the table, causing it to tilt to the side. He then nonchalantly slid down to the ground.0

“Seung-Ho!”0

What kind of mom wouldn’t be surprised by that situation? What if he got hurt?0

Cha Seung-Ho shamelessly stood up and brushed off his head and butt a few times. Afterward, he started walking back to his room.0

Argh!0

Han Kyung-Mi couldn’t help but be angry at herself for being so worried and upset that their dining table, which she had carefully polished to a shine to prolong its use, had been destroyed.0

Thwack!0

Han Kyung-Mi swung her arm as hard as she could. A startlingly loud crack came from Cha Seung-Ho’s back.0

She didn’t mean to do that. She didn’t mean to hit him so hard. A cry threatened to escape her.0

Children his age naturally overflowed with energy. She had kept him pent up in the room for so long that she couldn’t even imagine how frustrated he must have felt. She looked at Cha Seung-Ho with pitying,...0