Ethan was already halfway through his cereal when Claire's voice rang out like a foghorn.
"Kids, breakfast! Kids! Ugh, Phil, would you get them?"
Phil didn't look up from his phone. "Yeah. Just a sec."
Ethan kept stirring his cereal clockwise—twenty-eight revolutions so far. He liked even numbers. Safe numbers.
Claire groaned, her voice rising again. "Kids!"
Ethan winced. Phil finally looked up and added, "Kids! Get down here!"
Haley floated in a second later, looking like she'd just walked off the cover of a teen magazine. "Why are you guys yelling when we're upstairs? Just text me."
Ethan glanced over the rim of his spoon, unimpressed.
Claire responded with a tight smile. "That's not gonna happen. And wow, you're not wearing that outfit."
"What's wrong with it?" Haley asked, faking innocence so hard it was practically performance art.
Claire turned to Phil. "Honey, do you have anything to say to your daughter about her skirt?"
Phil glanced up. "Looks really cute, sweetheart."
"Thanks," Haley smiled sweetly, clearly satisfied.
Claire wasn't. "It's way too short. People know you're a girl—you don't need to prove it to them."
Alex arrived like a quiet storm, book in hand. "Luke got his head stuck in the banister again."
Ethan sighed, pushing his bowl away. Same old, same old.
"I got it," Phil said, already standing. "Where's the baby oil?"
Claire waved him off. "I dunno. Check the bedside table—ow!" She walked into the pantry door with a thud and a groan.
From where he sat, Ethan observed it all like he was watching a science experiment he knew would end in mild explosions. His spoon clinked gently against his bowl as he counted to seven in his head. Again.
The morning was unfolding with its usual brand of Dunphy chaos. He was just about to make a quiet exit when Claire turned sharply.
"Ethan, honey, you're not going anywhere. You're helping Luke after this. Your brother needs supervision. And possibly a helmet full-time."
Before Ethan could protest, Phil reappeared, holding the freed Luke like a victorious knight. "There. Be free, Excalibur."
"Thanks, Dad," Luke chirped, grinning. His face was red from the struggle, but that didn't seem to bother him. "I almost got it this time!"
"You almost concussed yourself," Ethan muttered.
"Ethan!" Claire called out again. "You're watching him today."
"I'll add it to the ever-growing list of things I didn't sign up for," he replied dryly.
Claire walked over, brushing his hair back slightly—an affectionate gesture he didn't particularly love. "Come on, it'll be good for you. You've been cooped up composing that song all week."
Haley leaned over the kitchen counter, her phone glued to her ear. "Hey. I'm having a friend over today. His name is Dylan."
Claire's eyes flicked up immediately. "Who?"
"You don't know him."
"Him?"
Ethan perked up. Now this was going to be interesting.
Luke grinned. "Oooooh. A boy. You gonna kiss—?"
"Shut up!" Haley snapped, throwing a piece of toast at him.
Phil tried to mediate. "Easy, easy—let's keep our toast weapons holstered."
"Luke, Alex," Claire said with a sigh, "go outside and get some fresh air."
"And do what?" Alex asked flatly.
"Fight in the sun," Phil offered. "It'll be a nice change."
Ethan stood to leave, but Claire called out again.
"Not so fast. You're folding the laundry before you do anything else. I've got a frosting emergency."
Ethan nodded. Resistance was pointless. The pattern of the day was clear: chaos, correction, chores, chaos again.
Later that afternoon, Ethan found himself sitting on the edge of the staircase as Dylan arrived.
Claire beat Haley to the door. "Hi! You must be Dylan."
"Hey. Dylan, yeah." His voice was nervous, the handshake unsure.
Claire tilted her head. "You're still in high school?"
"I'm a senior," Dylan said, unaware that a red warning light had begun flashing in Claire's brain.
Phil wandered in with impeccable timing. "Phil Dunphy. Yo."
Ethan blinked. No. He couldn't be serious.
"Let me meet this playa," Phil continued, extending his hand like he was about to start breakdancing.
Ethan watched, mouth twitching in restrained horror.
"Yo," Dylan replied, clearly confused.
"Wait, wait!" Phil said. "You two keep it real, know what I mean, son?"
"Not really."
"Please stop," Haley groaned.
Then Phil slipped on the baby oil and crumpled to the floor like a deflated balloon.
"Classic," Ethan murmured, shaking his head as Claire rushed in.
"Phil! Are you okay?"
"I'm on my side! Just flip me!"
Ethan returned to his room before he could laugh too hard. The mess was always better observed from a distance.
That evening, things got weirder.
"Mitchell's having everyone over," Claire said, peeking into Ethan's room. "Family dinner. They have news."
Ethan looked up from his sketchpad. "Like... big news?"
Claire shrugged. "Who knows with Mitchell. Could be new throw pillows. Could be therapy."
At Mitchell and Cam's place, the atmosphere was... tense.
Ethan stood awkwardly beside the snacks, watching as Mitchell tried to casually mention the adoption. Tried being the keyword.
Cam burst in dramatically with baby Lily held high as "Circle of Life" played from hidden speakers. The spotlight hit them like a Broadway debut.
"Cam," Mitchell muttered. "The music."
"Oh, right." Cam clicked off the track.
The family stared, mouths open. Ethan blinked twice, then leaned over to Maya, who had tagged along for moral support.
"I think I just witnessed Simba's christening."
Maya grinned. "I liked it. It was... bold."
Claire broke the silence first. "Wait. You adopted a baby? A real baby?"
"Yes," Mitchell said. "Her name is Lily."
Ethan watched everyone react in real time: Gloria cried. Haley took selfies with the baby. Luke asked if she came with baby powers. Jay stared blankly, clearly processing.
Jay finally spoke. "I know I said it was a bad idea, but what do I know? I'm not here to spit in your face—I'm here to blow at your back."
Everyone paused.
Gloria translated in Spanish, and the room collectively sighed in understanding.
Later, as the family cooed over Lily, Ethan stood back near the doorway, watching.
"Feels different," he said softly.
Claire turned to him. "Yeah. It does."
He looked over at Cam, Mitchell, and the tiny baby now being passed around like a precious trophy.
"It's kind of nice," Ethan said, voice quieter now. "All of us here."
Claire smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "It is."
Ethan leaned into her side, just a little. "But next time, can we just send a card?"
Claire laughed. "No chance."