EPILOGUE

D ICE

“Turner Mason Hawkes! What have you done?”

I jumped up from my desk and went into the hall to find my family. After hearing stories of what life was like with Cyd when she was a child, I had no illusions that our children would be any better, so I was instantly terrified whenever I heard Cydney take that tone with our sons.

“I think they look good!” Turner said with absolutely no remorse for whatever it was he had done. “A little ink never hurt nobody.”

My socks barely gave me enough traction to stop before I burst out of the hallway into the kitchen. I was glad I was hidden when Cydney asked, “Where did you get that marker?”

“I swiped it off the desk when I was at the shop with Dad.”

“Turner, what have I told you about stealing shit?”

“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it. Besides, it’s Dad’s marker, and since we’re family, that’s not stealing.”

I peeked around the corner and saw that Cydney was still on the couch with her feet propped up and her laptop taking up what was left of her lap, which wasn’t much since she was days away from giving birth to our third child - this one, the princess we’d been hoping for.

“Give me the marker.”

“What marker?” Turner asked.

At the same time, our three-year old, Grady, cheerfully said, “I’m cool now, Mama!”

“You’ve always been cool, Grady Frank.” Cydney’s voice took on the tone I considered an early warning signal, and I watched her head fall back against the couch cushion as she did an awful impression of my voice and said, “ Let’s have another baby, Cyd. Turner needs a best friend, Cyd. We’re a family, and we can do anything together, Cyd. ”

I couldn’t see the boys because they were still too short to peek over the bar, but I had a pretty good idea of what had happened. I was still debating on whether or not to wade into the fray when Lamp came around the bar into the kitchen with Toast and Cake close behind her.

All three cats were sporting black ink that hadn’t been there two hours ago when I left the boys sleeping in their room. As they walked toward me, I swore I could see anger and shame in their expressions. I knew they were pissed when they strutted by me without even stopping for pets.

I heard movement nearby and looked up to find my wife standing on the other side of the bar with a permanent marker in her hand.

“Your son has decided he’s an artist. He didn’t just decorate the girls, he decorated his brother too.”

I had to pull my lips between my teeth to hold back a smile, but I choked on my laughter and started coughing. Once I was able to control myself, I asked, “Why is it you only refer to them as my sons when they’ve done something bad?”

“Did you know that the human body sheds at least thirty thousand skin cells a day?”

“No.”

“That means that with the four of us in this house, there are approximately one hundred and twenty thousand dead skin cells floating around, some of them so small that they can’t even be seen by the naked eye.”

My mouth started watering in the worst way as I tried not to imagine what . . .

“There are probably skin cells in your nose right this second, Kenny. They’re in your mouth, swimming around in your saliva, and if they’re from either of our sons, I can’t imagine what those skin cells might have on them.” I gulped, and Cydney smiled at me. “Just yesterday, Cake took a swipe at Grady because he tried to put his finger in her butt. I wonder if those skin cells are floating around, maybe in your eyeballs or . . .”

I couldn’t take anymore and turned around to run to the bathroom, hoping beyond all hope that I’d make it in time. The evil woman who I referred to as my wife followed me down the hall, spouting disgusting trivia facts in between giggles. She knew she would have me puking any second now.

Luckily, she shut up just as I started heaving into the toilet. When I was finally finished and standing at the sink brushing my teeth, she stepped into the bathroom and tossed the marker onto the vanity.

“Today, they’re your sons.”

I dried my mouth and said, “In a few weeks, we’re going to have a little girl that I hope looks just like you, babe. And I hope with all my heart that she acts like you too.”

Cydney’s face fell, and she whispered, “How could you say such a thing to me?”

I knew from experience that I was teetering on the edge of the hormonal abyss of anger and disdain or maybe even hysterical tears, so I decided not to push my luck any further and pulled my wife into my arms. I gave her a kiss on each cheek, wiping away the tears that had already fallen before I said, “Because you’re the smartest, funniest, strongest woman I know and our daughter will be lucky if she has half your gumption and drive.”

“Your sons are going to make me crazy.” When I opened my mouth, she glared at me and whispered, “And if you say I was already crazy, I’ll show you just how much a frying pan to the head hurts, Kenny.”

“I would never!”

“We have to take a picture of the boys so we can blackmail them with it when they get older.”

“Okay,” I agreed before I kissed her again. I looked over her shoulder and asked, “Where are they?”

“Oh, no. They’re quiet!” Cydney said with fear in her voice.

“I’ll get ‘em,” I told her as I let her go and started for the doorway. “But I’ll have you know that every time they do wild shit like this, your parents just laugh and laugh. You might think about that before you send them pictures of the boys’ new ink.”

“My parents are evil,” Cydney called out from the bathroom.

“No, honey, they’re family. That’s why we love them.”

THE END

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