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The new sleds we had made for the twins are safer and more everything than the older ones still in the hall closet.
But I can tell my Mrs. Claus still isn’t okay with her sons adopting a little bit of their old man’s dare-devilry at such a young age.
The boys, Mark and Mike, squeal with delight as they hurtle down the frozen hillside. Reminding their old man of something he never had.
Watching Carol’s breath catch, I watch the boys, launching myself down after them on my own sled.
Meeting them both at the bottom.
They’re fine.
Squealing like monkeys. Begging to be tossed down again.
“I think your mommy wants us back inside now, boys,” I tell them, smiling at their wide eyes.
“Pleeeeaaassse daddy?” they implore me, and I know I’m lost.
“Once more then,” I promise, taking both their hands as we trudge back up the icy hill, snow crunching under our feet.
Reminding myself that Christmas dinner is in the oven.
Carol’s waiting, pecking my cheek and then the boy’s heads before reminding me we have dinner waiting.
“Just one more, honey. I promised them,” I tell her. Smiling when she winks at me.
“They’re their father’s sons alright,” she exclaims, kissing me again and I hold her close.
“I love you, Carol. And so do the boys,” I tell her.
She slaps her hands on my chest, rolling her eyes, and tells me not to try and talk my way out of it.
“You can get them washed up for dinner then,” she adds, her final say in the deal and I readily agree.
“I’d be proud to,” I say, smiling, and feeling the slight sting of a frozen tear at the side of my eye before I hurtle down the hill again with my two greatest treasures, my sons.
My wife watching over us and knowing she feels the same way I do for all of them.
Love.
Pure love as I hoist them both onto my shoulders and march us all back up the hill, sleds in tow behind us.
“How’s number three?” I ask her, noting her mood but glad to see her smile.
“She’s doing just fine. I look forward to having some female company,” she adds with a grin, her hands running across her belly.
“I’ll warn the boys,” I remind her. “They’re gonna need some coaching when our baby girl comes along.”
“Boys?” I announce. “You’ll have a baby sister soon, and more than just your momma to answer to. Let’s get washed up and ready for dinner,” pleased when they agree so easily.
“You don’t need to scare them like that,” Carol says, punching my arm, but I mean it.
“It’s true, baby. Every word. If their sister is anything like their mommy, I need to prepare them for it.”
“And just what’s that supposed to mean?” she asks defiantly, hands on her hips as we reach the back door, the boys scuttling to get cleaned up after kicking their boots off by the door.
“It means,” I start to explain. “That those two boys and I will have truly met our match once we finally meet our beautiful. Baby. Daughter.”
I spell it out to her, kissing her after each word.
“Will you still love me after our third baby?” Carol asks, making a face as she runs her hands across her figure for the millionth time.
Something I haven’t told her, but it drives me wild every time I see her do it.
I’m glad the boys are inside, because I launch myself at her, running a hand up the inside of her legs, growling.
Begging her to let me fuck her on the spot.
“Maybe for dessert, we have Christmas dinner, ya know?” she reminds me. Making me smile wider.
“I know,” I tell us both. “I haven’t forgotten.”
We’ve opened half our presents, a deal we had to make with Mark and Mike last night, otherwise, Mr. and Mrs. Claus could never creep back down the stairs to put out their real surprises.
Carol’s with me on one thing, spoiling our kids rotten and I couldn’t agree more.
Neither of us ever had such love, Carol having never met her parents, and we both relish it on our boys and know the next in line will have just the same.
“Do you think they’ll grow up without being spoilt brats?” she asked last night, whispering as we stacked more wrapped gifts under the tree with their names on.
“Not a chance,” I reminded her. “They have their mommy and daddy to face off if they ever try.”
“Have I told you how much I love you today Lucian?” she asks me, once I’m serving up a slice of dark turkey meat for us both.
Our boys munching on vegetables and beans, having told us in no uncertain terms they’re vegan now.
