WORD COUNT | 3.6K+
"Sunblock?" You call out from the list to your husband who was in charge of making sure everything you needed for today's festivities were in the bag.
"Check!" Grayson calls back, digging through the abnormally large bag you'd chosen. "Babe I think we're all good. We've checked it four times already and every single time has been clear. Now can we please go?" He pleads, zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder.
With a heavy sigh, knowing he was right you nodded and looked around the room to make sure you didn't forget to add some last minute item. "Are the twins ready?" You ask, deciding that you had everything.
"KIDS!" Grayson yells throughout the house, startling you even though it was quieter than usual believe it or not. Within seconds you could hear a duo of little feet running in your direction. The smile on your face only got bigger as your two little ones rounded the corner, shoving one another of course like their Dad and Uncle still do to this day.
Your smile faded as they got closer and you saw that Noah was sporting only a pull-up and Mason was wearing one of Graysons old t-shirts. "Gray, I thought you said you had the ready." You groan, running a hand through your hair and turning toward him in aggravation.
"I was trying to get them ready but you kept calling me into the room to go over the list." He defends, which of course made you tear up. As it got closer to that time of the month you kept getting more and more emotional and Grayson always managed to get the butt end of it. His features softened when he noticed the salty tears building up in your eyes and set the bag down on the floor. "I'm sorry honey. I'm sorry. Please don't cry, I hate when you cry, it breaks my heart." He coos, pulling you into his chest and kisses the crown of your head.
The twins stood dazed and confused, still unsure of why they were interrupted from their playing to stand in the hallway with their emotional Mother and equally confused Father. "Tell you what, you take this bag out to the car and I'll get them dressed, okay?" He suggests, pulling away from you slightly to be able to look you in the eye.
Wiping around your eyes with the soft pads of your fingers you sniffled and nodded, leaning to take the bag from the floor. "Boys, follow Daddy." You command softly, moving aside to let them trail behind him to their room like little baby ducks.
You waited in the car, fully expecting to have to take the boys back inside and change them into appropriate clothes for the occasion. But to your surprise Grayson came out of the house, walking them both to the car in matching Independence Day outfits. "How do our studs look, Mama?" Grayson asks, opening the backseat door and strapping both boys into their car seats.
"Handsome like their stud of a Father." You compliment, bringing a deep crimson to his cheeks. He shook his head in flattery and made sure they were secure before closing the doors and getting in himself. You worked on getting a movie playing on the little tv's planted in the headrests, knowing fully well that those two had no patience for car rides.
The car ride consisted of the twins whining and trying to hit each other while Cars 3 played in the background of their screaming. Three years ago when you found out you were pregnant, the screaming was your biggest fear. You were terrified you wouldn't be able to handle it, but here you are, present day, taking it like a champ while the love of your life held your left hand and carefully drove with his other. He'd told you on many, many occasions how much he loved his little family and how if anything ever happened to the three of you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He truly was the best life partner a girl could ask for and an even better Daddy to your monster-like children.
"Hungry Daddy!" The boys whined in unison, making you laugh some at how alike they were.
"We're almost there guys. Uncle E is making hot dogs as we speak." Grayson replies, glancing in the mirror at them for only a moment before his eyes were glued back to the road. His answer did not go over well with your babies who ate more than you thought a pair of three-year-olds could. They began to whimper and pout, making Graysons heart melt into a puddle like it always did whether it was them or you. He was whipped for his family.