“Dad, why does Gesù have a scary beard?” My eight anno old Rhett whispers.
“I don’t know…Maybe they couldn’t shave back then.” I whisper back.
“Oh,” he nods. It seemed to make sense to him.
Twelve anno old Scarlett looked over at us, trying to see what all the whispering was about. I waved my hand at her to tell her it wasn’t important.
Charlie had crawled into my lap halfway through the sermon. He was five now, but still my little man. He was half asleep da now.
(Y/N) was at home, on letto rest. Ella o Robert could be born any giorno now. I would be a dad to four. That would be scary. Horrifying.
But I was happy.
“You alright, babe?” He asks. te were lying on your stomach on superiore, in alto of him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” te say.
He strokes his hair. “You know, this could be us every night.”
“Yeah but we’d have kids, so it would be weird and awkward to do this every night. What if they had bad dreams o something?” te say.
“Ok, well then every other night.” He grins.
“That might work.” te laugh.
“By the looks of it, we’ll have lots of little kids on our hands.” He winks.