Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
That I should just focus on the kids.
And also keeping glitter out of my trimmed to my face beard.
Finishing occurs in the midafternoon leaving everyone more than enough time to properly get ready for our traditional evening dinner. My in-laws casually exit, making sure to take cookies and reindeer food to drop off at the other grandparents’ house to please the girls who want everyone to get great presents from Santa. They remind us of our reservation which prompts me into suggesting that Jaye leisurely gets ready.
Takes a moment to unwind with a glass of wine.
Couple of cookies.
Maybe a chapter of reading between “battling” her curls.
Let me work on the cleanup that’s left.
Our daughters promise they can dress themselves, and I immediately agree, making sure to wink her direction to wordlessly promise I’ll handle them as well.
The process of getting our house less sticky and a bit tidier while simultaneously trying to juggle bickering siblings successfully keeps me from checking my phone to see if I’ve heard from Jedd. It takes almost three hours to get everything and everyone I’m responsible for where they’re supposed to be leaving me very little time to get changed. Quickly rinsing off is followed by tossing on the traditional jeans and sweater, a set of actions that’s easy to pull off due to Jaye tagging in to assist in the prearranging of the Christmas cookies and thank you letters to Santa.
Yes, my darling wife came up with the idea a long time ago to write Santa thank you for visiting cards. She wants our girls to be grateful versus taking shit for granted – a principle you know damn well I’m happy to support. We’ve kept all the ‘letters’ – which are just adorable scribbles – and one day when they’re older and preparing for their own kids – fifty years from now – we’ll pass them along. Hopefully make it an ongoing tradition. And as someone who came into this relationship with none, I love the idea of each one we create.
Getting us all bundled up and into the SUV occurs the instant I’m back downstairs. Under my encouragement, Rainne volunteers to aid in getting Henz buckled in – something I will of course double check – allowing me to assist my lovely wife into the front seat.
Rather than letting her close the door, I lean a little closer to coo, “You look beautiful in your new dress, sweetheart.”
She gives her bottom lip the tiniest bite before asking, “How’d you know it was new?”
The sarcastic head tilt she’s given gets a small round of giggles.
“You don’t know me that well.”
“No?” Tucking a missed curl behind her ear is done in tandem with me asking, “And when you ordered the dress and the shoes, did you also pre-order a signed paperback copy of Minka Knight’s latest novel to also receive the free green and white typewriter scarf?”
“It would so match this outfit!”
Snickers bounce my entire frame as redness slightly tints her cheeks.
Some things never change.
“Okay, fine, maybe you do know me a little.”
“Sweetheart, after more than ten years together, I better know you a helluva lot more than a little or I’m really effing failing at this husband thing.”
“You are definitely not effing failing at that.” She gently cups my cheek on a small smile. “Even with the hiccup we’re having.”
Guess growing pangs never truly stop, huh?
“I don’t want the bow!” Henz loudly shouts at her sibling causing me to lean around to inspect the situation.
“Wear the bow!”
“No!”
My mouth drops to intervene when Jaye inconspicuously shakes her head to let them figure it out.
Fuck…They’re just so loud. And it’s Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t they be getting along…I don’t know…better?
“Yes!”
“No means no, Rainne!” Henz firmly huffs a familiar phrase in our household.
“But-”
“No buts. Your sister said no,” I firmly interject. “And we respect other people’s boundaries especially when that word is said.” Jaye’s hand gives my chest a small pat of support. “This is not a safety issue; therefore, her refusal is allowed and is to be followed.”
“Fine,” Rainne grumbles during her crawl over to her own space. “We won’t match.” She angrily yanks at the seatbelt. “We won’t look the same.” Her angry buckling along with her pout remind me so much of her mother’s. “We won’t have fun.”
The urge to overly parent the situation kicks up again pushing my wife to shake her head a second time. Instead of mistakenly intervening, I close Jaye’s door, walk around to inspect Henz’s car seat restraints, and convince myself to doublecheck if I remembered to set the house alarm. It’s a short trek through the cold winter air from the vehicle to the door back to the vehicle yet somehow long enough to have the mood shift in my momentary absence. By the time I’m behind the wheel, my daughters have returned to being on the same side and debating on what dessert to get after dinner.