Excerpts Of Stories I'll Never Write

03

I was walking into the kitchen and seen the mess made by my boys. "Mason!" I heard many different thumps from the stairs and two heads popped out from around the corner. One belong to my husband, and the other to my son. Yes, they both had the same name.

"Alright, who's the culprit that made a mess and didn't clean up afterwards?" They both pointed to each other just as fast as the other with frightening yet guilty looks on their face. "It was him", they both said in unison.

I laughed at their childish antics before shaking my head. "Next time clean it up, please? Thank you my loves." They both smiled and rushed out to go play. "My husband is 27 and acting like our 2 year old son. Of course", I giggled.

After I cleaned their mess and tidied up a bit, I went to the living room to see my husband reading to our son. Of course it's his favorite book - Skippy John Jones.

As I'm thinking of this, I see my son curling into my husband's body, sleep intending to flirt with him as his eyes slowly shut and my husband smiles. Right there is my little family. My husband is holding his life, his legacy within his hands and I can see he could not be more content. This is my life.