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I shake my head, and my smile turns into another jaw-widening yawn.
I’d better get with the program, so making the rounds one more time first and then wrangling all the kids and women the best I can so they can all sleep comfortably.
I walk around and make sure the main and back doors are locked and that the alarm is armed.
I know that the house is locked up for the night and utterly secured as my father takes every precaution with his grandkids' safety. The security around here is always tight, but since I've had Carina in my life, I've gotten into the habit of making one last sweep of the place when we come over since we're pretty isolated with the nearest neighbor's place sitting over five miles from here. To be honest, I do the same even in our own place in the city, and anywhere else we might be staying.
I just can’t help it.
I’ve been getting increasingly worse with each new kid added to our clan, and the adults in my family make no bones about calling me an overprotective helicopter bear to my face.
Like that’s a bad thing.
If my wife was awake, she would be following me around with that little indulgent smile she gets on her lips and those eyes of hers that so clearly spell she thinks that I’m just a little bit crazy for acting like this, and yet she loves me for it.
But tonight, of all nights, I need to be sure the place is in lockdown.
The caterers, acrobats, actors, and the rides' operators left about three hours ago, but many unknowns are still milling about dealing with the clean-up or busy dismantling the stands and the rides.
We’ve had our head of security running background checks and vetting all the people we hired for the party, but one can never be too careful.
When I'm done checking, double-checking, and triple-checking that all the locks are engaged, I go back into the living room to start rearranging kids, covers, and women alike.
My nephews, three-year-old Roan and six-year-old Raul make it simple for me as they are already zipped into their sleeping bags, so I simply fluff the pillows behind their heads. Raul’s fraternal twin sister, River, presents a bit of a challenge as she’s lying on top of Tasha’s back, and one of her arms is hugging her mom’s forehead in a way that can’t be comfortable for either of them.
I ready one of the vacant sleeping bags and carefully pick up my niece, trying my best not to wake up either my best friend or the kid since I know they are both very light sleepers, but I needn’t have worried: they are both so knackered they don’t feel a thing.
I kneel down on the floor to lower River onto the base of the open bag and then slowly zip her in. Then I stand up again and cover both Tasha and Didi with a couple of fluffy throws that were hanging off the back of the sofa.
I tackle my boys next. I gently pry first Nevil and then Alarik off their mommy's sides and then roll them fully onto their backs before fixing their own pillows and zipping them in as quietly as I can.
I realize it would have been way easier to just pick them up and put them to sleep on the sectional sofa opposite the one occupied by their aunts and just get some blankets for them. Still, I know my sons enough to be sure that if I had done that, they would have woken up disappointed tomorrow, being the only ones that didn't get to sleep rough on the floor. Kids.
Next, I pick up my baby girl, cuddling her warm, sleep-heavy form in my arms. She whispers “Daddy” in her sleep, her little chubby hands curling into my shoulders. I smile and kiss her head of dark downy hair as I walk toward the playpen her mommy and I arranged as a bed for her in the room. They could persuade me to leave her down here for the night with her siblings and cousins, but there was no way I was putting a two-year-old inside a sleeping bag, no matter how much ribbing I got for my efforts. Toddler-sized my ass.
They can call me a bear as much as they want.
I gently lower her onto her nest of pink and purple covers and tuck her in.
Then it’s the birthday girls’ turn.
I gingerly move first Leany and then Dora away from their sleeping mom and slowly slide first one and then the other into their nearby sleeping bags, one Winx-themed and the other shaped as a laughing Crash Bandicoot, of course –we had to have the thing especially made since no such thing was in existence.
I meant to try and persuade my five-year-old that she could make do with the perfectly nice Super Mario and Luigi one that we did find for her, and she’s a reasonable little girl, so I had her almost convinced, but my sneaky wife went behind my back and got this made for her.
And she’s the one who scolds me for spoiling the little rug rats. Figures.
I switch on the camera in the playpen, turning the device around until I’m sure it’s properly trained on my little girl’s sleeping face, then make the rounds fluffing pillows one last time and kissing little heads as I go.
I dim the lights, turn off the TV, and stuff the baby monitor inside the oversized pocket stitched to the front of my PJs before bending down to pick up my wife as delicately as I can, carrying her bride-style out of the room and upstairs to my former bachelor pad in the family quarters, the apartment Carina and I always stay in when we come here for a visit.
* * *
I unhurriedly climbthe stairs with my wife snuggled into my arms, smiling at the feel of her full, plushy curves as they press against my chest.
After ten years and all the babies we've been blessed with, her lush figure has grown even thicker and softer, and I love worshipping every inch of her every chance I get. I find her even sexier than I did the first time my eyes clapped on her across that ballroom the night we fell in love. There's nothing that brings me more joy in this life than kissing, caressing, and teasing her out of one of her sad moods when the little baby weight that she's still carrying after Piper makes her feel a bit insecure.
Halfway through the stairs, Carina stirs.
