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“I’ll get the special plate!” Lair Bear insists and takes off in the opposite direction.
What the fuck just happened here?
One minute they were having a standoff like a deletedDie Hardscene and the next they’reSaving Private Ryaningthemselves so that the other gets their pick.
So that the person they love most is happy.
A smile slowly spreads across my face as I shake my head in amusement.
Huh.
No idea where they get that shit from.
Post The Great Christmas Debate in the kitchen is shower time. Thankfully, it goes a lot smoother than the last event – rubber ducks are always handy – and leaving them to get dressed on their own to bring my wife – who is singing AFI songs in the bath – a Christmas mug of tequila occurs without any issues.
Teeth brushing is done to music from our family playlist. The two-minute rule in which they have to keep going until the timer goes off – interrupting the song – also gives them one last chance to get their wiggles out before tuck in time.
It was Arley’s brilliant doing.
Much like everything else that keeps our household running smoothly.
The same dedication to analyzing she delivers to HE she does for our household. Regardless of if it’s something big – the best preschools in the area – or something small – burning energy pre bed – she puts in the effort to figure out the most optimal solution according to the data while I still do what I’ve always done.
Trust my instincts.
Hasn’t failed me yet.
It’s how I knew to buy a new soccer goalbeforethe one in the backyard crapped out.
From the floor of their shared bedroom, I watch them climb up the steps to the reading nook space above their beds. Despite it being Lu’s turn to pick the books, they talk it out. Work together. Compromise in a way they’ve seen me, and their mother, do probably a million times.
It’s wild to me how much of us is in them.
I know parents always think that, but it’s different for me.
I missed such a hunk of time away from my own that I’m not sure that got to be true for mine.
Then again, if you ask the woman I gave my last name to, she’ll tell you I absolutely got my dad’s snark and my ma’s devotion to those she loves.
I hope the latter is passed along to these two.
Reading time occurs with both girls lounging on me. One book has Lair Bear’s head on my leg while her sister straddles the other, yet the next has Lu wedged between my thighs with Lair Bear standing behind me to point at the pictures over my shoulder, convinced I’m going to miss the important details only she sees. Having my girls lovingly wound around me the entire session further drives Arley’s point home.
How many story times have I missed?
How many more before it’s too many?
How many more before they don’twantthese anymore?
Before they’ve outgrown them?
Outgrown thewantto be around me like this?
Once the books are returned to their respective shelves, the girls meet me at their dresser where their prayer candles are waiting to be lit.
Rather than immediately removing the lighter from my jean pocket, I lower myself to my knees to be face to face with both. For a moment, I silently study their features. Their blue eyes they get from me. The long brown wavy hair they get from their mother. Their own unique freckle patterns as well as their slightly differing features like Lu’s smaller lips and Lair Bear’s thicker eyebrows. Staring at these two bite size bundles of happiness, these two scoops of all that’s right in the world, causes a thrumming in my chest that I can’t deny.
Ihaveto keep doing my job.
