Page 70 of How to Date a Younger Man
“Never a dull moment with these two,” Griffin says, shaking his head as he smiles down at Charlotte resting against his chest.
I smooth Georgia’s hair and whisper, “Were they okay while I was gone?”
“They weren’t happy about getting those onesies on, but besides that, they were a dream. I kept them entertained with my new comedy routine.”
I chuckle and roll my eyes. Griffin has fully embraced being a dad, and for him, that includes constantly coming up with as many awful dad jokes as he possibly can—and making us listen to them, and making the girls giggle and me belly laugh.
“They only laugh so you don’t feel bad about yourself. You know that, right?” I tease, loving that we can still tease and taunt each other like we did before we become a couple.
“Oh, please. They have their daddy’s sense of humor. They know talent when they see it and don’t you pretend that you don’t like my jokes.”
“Sure, babe, whatever you say. Speaking of talent, has Wren gotten back to you about this weekend?”
“Not yet. She said she was waiting on a new supplier.”
“A supplier? She makes balloon animals and paints faces. “How intense can this business be?”
“I guess she uses only organic, all-natural products, and those can be pretty tough to come by in her industry.”
“Well, tell her it’s the twins’ first birthday party, not high tea with the queen of England. We’d just like to have her there.”
He smiles warmly. “On it. Did you see the picture Kristen posted yesterday? She looks like she’s ready to pop.”
“I know, poor thing. A week past her due date already. You couldn’t pay me enough to be that pregnant again.”
Griffin raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure about that? Because Charlotte, Georgia, and I were talking about it today, and they said they wanted a little brother.”
“Oh, did they?” My mouth twitches into a smile and butterflies circle my belly like they always do when Griff mentions anything about babies. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”
Before we can continue the conversation, my phone starts ringing from inside my tote in the kitchen. I get up, carefully place Georgia in her bassinet, and jog as quickly and quietly as I can to answer it. I pick up my phone and glance at Griffin after viewing the name on the screen.
Who is it? he mouths, and I simply force a smile in response.
“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Hi, sweetie. How are the girls?”
“The girls are great. Sleeping, actually.”
“Griffin was kind enough to send me a picture of them wearing the adorable little onesies I got them. I could just eat them up, they’re so stinking cute. Does Georgia’s hair look like it’s getting a little red to you?”
“I was just saying that same thing to Griff. Also, hi, we’re fine too, by the way. Slightly sleep deprived, but we’ve got a good system going.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that, sweetheart. So, anyway, I wanted to call and go over some details about this weekend.”
I walk back over to the couch and curl up next to Griffin and the babies. As my mother rambles on about cupcakes and decorations, I make eye contact with Griffin, who furrows his brow to ask what she’s talking about. I simply shrug and roll my eyes in response. The party, I mouth. He shakes his head and raises his eyebrows, adjusting Charlotte’s positioning on his chest.
My mom has quickly taken to being a grandma, and while I’m incredibly appreciative of all her love and support, she’s proven to be a bit . . . overeager. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised—being a grandma has been her dream for decades, and now that she finally is one, she’s taking the role very seriously. And lately, that includes commandeering the twins’ first birthday party.
“And I was thinking maybe instead of peonies, we go with begonias—big, white, beautiful begonias. What do you think?”
She’s barely taken a single breath between sentences, and I’ve learned to just go along with whatever she says at this point. It’s not like I have some grand vision for what this birthday party needs to look like. I’m just happy that my babies are healthy and growing, and that our family is stronger than ever. If my mom wants to take over hammering out some of the details, that’s perfectly fine by me.
“Begonias sound beautiful, Mom. That’s a great idea.”
Griffin scrunches his eyebrows together and mouths, Begonias?
I shrug and shake my head, trying not to laugh at his reaction. Georgia’s perfect little mouth stretches into a small “o” as she yawns, her eyelids fluttering open.
“Mom, I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. Georgia’s waking up from her nap.”
“Oh, all right, sweetheart. Give the babies kisses for me. I’ll send you an email with the rest of the details.”
