The FACE(S) family

Francis the Father

Arthur smiled softly, the two toddlers on his lap sucking their thumbs contently. He kissed Alfred's hair, and opened the book. "The three little pigs had lived with their mother for a long, long time. One day, mother pig oinked and decided they must move out-"

"Ma, you gon' make us move out?" Alfred butted in, looking up at Arthur.

Arthur laughed softly. "When you're grown up, darling, and if you want to, then you can move out."

Matthew looked up. "I not leaving." He said defiantly. "Not moving out. Love Mama and Papa."

Arthur kissed their heads. "We love you both, too. My big boys, you're talking so well now!"

Alfred and Matthew giggled at the praise, hugging their mother.

Alfred hummed in thought, before piping up: "Ma, I marry you when I get big. Then I don't ever leave." He nodded to support his resoning, and Arthur smiled softly.

"Your father might have something to say about that, my love." He kissed the small boy's head.

Matthew read along the page of the book. "Mama, read!" He chirped, pointing at the next line.

"Okay, okay. Shall I do the voice for mummy pig?" He asked.

Alfred and Matthew nodded eagerly.

Arthur cleared his throat. "'Sons, you must live in your own houses!'" He screeched in a high voice, snorting at the end of the sentence.

Alfred and Matthew burst out in laughter. They both knew that story time with Mama was the best thing ever.

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Francis frowned when he entered his kitchen. "Boys!" He yelled, picking up a half eaten burger. That was Alfred.

Matthew walked in, fixing his glasses. Francis noted how lanky the boy looked in his clothing, and resolved to take the boys shopping next time.

Alfred ran in from the back door, holding a football (which, much to both parents' dismay, Alfred insisted called a 'soccer' ball). Unlike Matthew, who's puberty was being a little mean, Alfred had turned into a a rather muscular figure. The Frenchman marveled at his sixteen year old sons' change.

"What's up, old man?" Alfred asked, glancing out the window. Francis waved the burger in the air. "How do you explain this?" He asked, before dropping it back on the counter.

Alfred grinned. "Hey, I forgot about that! Can I eat it?" He asked.

Matthew gasped, a repulsed face covering his features. "Al, that's from two nights ago!"

"Two nights?!" Francis exclaimed. "Eww! Where's your mother?"

"He's at his book club, Papa." Matthew replied helpfully. He picked up a half full pizza box, and smiled apologetically. "Since your new job, Mother just orders take out for us and makes himself a sandwich."

Alfred nodded madly. "Yeah, mommy dearest can't be bothered to cook." He looked longingly out the window. "Can I carry on practising now?" He asked hopefully.

Francis laughed, and shook his head. "Non. You both are cleaning up. I should be able to see my stubble shine in the reflection before you get back to having a social life. You're both nearly grown men. You can try your hand at doing adult things, instead of relying on your poor Mama."

Alfred and Matthew both groaned, but got onto their task, swearing under their breath. Francis grinned.

He was a good father.