Page 43 of Graves & Griggs
“Will you go put that under the tree, big man?”
He nods like it’s the most important task he’s ever been given before running out into the living room while the other one—Aries or Ryder, I don’t fucking know—is wrestling with wrapping a present he made for his parents. The other day while I was watching the kids, they were talking about Christmas and unsure what they could do for their parents. We looked up some easy homemade crafts and, with Seraphina’s artistic flair, made some pretty cute things. Homemade picture frames out of popsicle stickswith a picture I took of the boys and printed, and a few knives that have had their handles bedazzled.
Now before you come for me, of course I didn’t buy six-year-olds knives. They found them, and Seraphina did the bedazzling. You could tell the boys weren’t sure about it at first, but at her insistence, they conceded.
I won’t lie, if I didn’t know who their parents were, I’d be judging a bit. Knowing their dads, it kinda tracks. Don’t know if it’s healthy per se for your children to know weapons are your favorite things, but who am I to judge?
“Daddy, Aries needs help,” Seraphina says.
Got it. Aries green shirt, Ryder blue shirt. For today at least. Could we get them to stay in these clothes for the rest of their time with us? Or maybe we could get some really small tattoos to tell them apart? That’s what I’d do if we had twins!
Okay, maybe not, but there is some validity to that idea.
I slide over towards the kids, take the cardboard box from him and quickly adjust the wrapping because duh, I’m not gonna let them just wrap a knife. It’ll tear through the paper!
The second the paper is secured, the door to the playroom opens and we all freeze before each person quickly dives on top of an unwrapped present.
“GET OUTTTTT!” we shout as one.
Blake startles, throwing her hands in the air as the boys add, “Presents! Look away, Mama!”
Her hands fly to cover her eyes in an instant. “Sorry! Sorry! I just wanted to check on you guys.”
I do a quick inventory of what we have left to wrap and determine that all the presents for her and her husbands are done.
“Stand down, troops—Operation Present Wrapping is still secure,” I say to them. “Looks like we only have two presents left to wrap for Skyla and one for Asher.”
The kids all sit up, literally relaxing like soldiers at ease. Have Imentioned how much I love being a dad? How much I love my kids? Because I love it so fucking much.
Now she’s allowed to look, Blake slowly moves her hands from her face and smiles. “Have you guys been having fun?” she asks her kids.
“Yeah! We made presents,” Green Shirt, I mean Aries, says, and Ryder finishes. “And then we wrapped them.”
“And I helped!” Seraphina says, grinning up at Blake.
Blake smiles down at our little girl sweetly, then presses a kiss to the tops of her boys’ heads before sitting down.
“Sounds like you’ve been keeping them entertained despite all the… heavy,” she says carefully.
I shrug simply as I get back to work, wrapping the bottle of Scotch I got Asher. It’s a rare one he’s been trying to collect for years. No idea why—liquor is only good if you’re allowed to drink it in my opinion, but it’s not my Christmas present.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly. “I appreciate it… We all do.”
I smile at her. “It’s not a problem; I’m typically the comedic relief of the group. Happy to fulfill my role.”
She laughs at that and nods. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
“How are you doing with… everything?” I say cryptically as my eyes drift down to her stomach.
Her eyes widen as she looks around to make sure the kids aren’t listening. “Skyla told you?”
I shake my head. “She’d never, but I’m good at this thing. I’m four for four on calling her pregnancies before she even knew. It’s like a fifth sense or something.”
She nods before furrowing her brow. “Sixth sense, you mean.”
“No, not the movie,” I reply with a shake of my head before I think on my words. “Wait.”
Blake busts up laughing, a true belly laugh that shakes her from her head to her toes. The kids join in on the laughter, and fuck it, sodo I. I may be a dumbass sometimes, but at least I bring people joy, right?
