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“Ready kids?”
“Yeah!” the call out in unison.
Today we’re going swimming at Banff National Park. The water will be cold but who cares. All the kids have Russian blood running through them, or at least half of their genetic makeup is. They’re tough, just like their mom.
We hike down the hill with our entire tribe. Anna walks by herself because she’s nine and her legs are long enough to endure the steep decline. We already ran the numbers on her long ago and the math says she was conceived the first time we made love. The perfect conception. Is there a better way to enter life? I doubt it, and I never had a doubt that first batch of my seed was special, just as special as our oldest girl.
Asher is hot on her heels, and at eight he’s also up for the challenge.
Amelia is a bit slower, but at seven she’s already fiercely independent and wants to do everything on her own.
I carry Aden on my back and Ava in front of me, just like a good father should.
I’ve always been Alexa’s Daddy, and strangely enough there’s some carry over into our family life. Just as I’m protective, possessive, and always put my Little Girl Alexa first, I do the same for our actual little girls and little boys.
Daddy eats last. Daddy picks last. Daddy always comes last, and in doing so I actually come first because the joy I get from putting them above me is bigger than any temporary ‘reward’ of putting myself first. It doesn’t work that way, although it’s a fallacy I’ve heard many men prescribe to.
Then again there are no other men on the planet that have the loving, perfect family I have. Some may think so, and I’m happy for them, but I know the truth.
In the game of life I won the biggest lottery ever when I won the love of my wife and the love of our children and everything they do for us.
Half way down we stop for lunch and I pull out all the sandwiches and Gatorades for the kids, setting up a makeshift picnic underneath a tree as we take in the sights of the crystal clear blue waters of the lake below.
“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” my wife asks, staring at it from our vantage point.
“It sure is,” I say, and she does
n’t even pick up on my words until she turns around and sees me focused on her and nothing else.
“Mommy and Daddy sittin’ in a tree…k-i-ss-i-n-g,” Anna begins.
“First comes love, second comes marriage,” Asher adds.
“Then comes in a baby in a baby carriage,” Amelia finishes.
“You kids want another baby brother or sister?” I playfully, but always dead serious when it comes to this topic, ask.
“Yeah!” they say in unison, not caring that their mouths are full, which shows me just how into the idea they are.
I look at Alexa who shoots me a stunned look in surprise, eyebrows raised as she pauses right before she’s about to take a bite.
“You want another little girl?” She plays along.
“There’s only one original little girl,” I add, under my breath and it goes right over the kids’s heads.
Alexa looks at me like I’m out of my mind for teasing that subject here, but she quickly smiles. Our little role playing games never get old, partly because they’re not games. They’re a way of life.
The kids take turns saying they want a baby brother or sister, and choosing names.
“Guess that settles it,” I say, knowing if I’ve got all the kids on my sides it’s a done deal.
“Eight is enough,” Alexa concedes.
“So it’s official. One more makes eight,” I say.
“It’s official all right,” she says.
“You know what else is official?” Nobody says anything. “I love all of you!” I say before grabbing everyone and pulling them onto our picnic blanket into one big family hug.
