Five years later
“Illyana! Stop teasing your brother,” I called as I looked for Harrison’s other shoe. Our third child was 2, almost 3, and he was as rambunctious as the twins combined. He hated to be left behind. “Harrison, come put your shoes on or we’re going to be late for the picnic,” I yelled upstairs. Shortly, I heard a big bang followed by “I’m ok!” and the sound of feet running across the floor. I took a deep breath and counted to five in my frustration. Before I reached three, warm arms encircled my waist and soft lips were against my mark.
“Need some help?” Carson asked.
“Yes!” I laughed, “I can’t believe you want to try for a fourth given how much work these three are!” I exclaimed as I twisted around and looped my arms around Carson’s neck. He leaned in and kissed me and i
