“He did.”
“Did you know that here we say ‘practice’, not ‘training’?”
Owen ruffled Chloe’s hair. “Yeah, I know, little one.”
Perfect timing to interrupt. I set the tray on the table, and a few minutes later the locusts had devoured almosteverything.
“Time to change and brush your teeth,” I said, losing points with the girls, if to judge by their disappointed glances.
I followed them upstairs, leaving Owen to his phone.
“A little more fun and then you two are going to bed. No arguments, okay?”
After securing their unenthusiastic verbal contract, we went back down to join Owen.
Emma grabbed her new doll and crawled into her little circus tent. “Owen, come see.”
Owen tried, but after a couple of awkward movements, he ended up sitting on his ass, knees bent to his chin, his frame filling what little space was left inside.
“Why don’t we build something we can all fit in?” he suggested when Chloe started whining that she wanted in, too.
“We can use the sofa pillows!” Chloe rushed to gather them, bringing me a stack of smaller decorative ones. “You won’t tell mom, right?”
I stroked her hair. “As long as we put it back together before she gets home, I won’t say a word.”
Owen freed himself from the tiny tent, and within minutes, we had a fort made of the sofa cushions—just big enough for the four of us to cram inside.
“We can play two truths and a lie,” Chloe suggested. “We played it in class, and no one knew mine.”
“What was your lie?” I asked.
“Everyone thought the lie was that a famous football star is my dad’s best friend.” She grinned, victorious.
“Oh, that’s probably because they were thinking about someone like Tom Brady.” Owen chuckled.
“How about something Emma can play, too, like I-Spy?” I suggested.
Four rounds later—which involved Emma spying the same object three times—she let out a loud yawn.
“Time for bed, little one. Come on, I’ll tuck you in,” I said, trying to maneuver out of the fort.
“No. Owen. And Bluey,” she pointed, squeezing the stuffed toy tight.
“Okay. You too, young lady,” I said, looking at Chloe.
“But it’s—”
“No, it’s not.” Anticipating her protest, I turned my phone screen to her, showing the time.
“But I didn’t even get to be on my phone!”
“Because you had more fun doing other things with actual people, and now it’s too late, sorry.”
With a dramatic sigh, Chloe ducked out of the fort first, followed by me, then Emma, and finally Owen.
He scooped Emma up effortlessly, and she wrapped her little arms around his neck, Bluey dangling from her hand. The sight of her tiny frame clinging to him, her face pressed against his shoulder, sent a strange ache curling in my chest.
“Can I just post the selfie of me and Owen?” Chloe asked.
