Page 95 of Ho Ho Oh No

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Leo. I was starting to feel awkward as the only one over here with guns.” He flexes his biceps, one then the other. “Pew. Pew.”

Jonesy, who used to guard Cort and Amber, has a fondness for Cort’s brand of delusion. “I’d punch you, but you’re holding an infant.”

“Aww,” Cort coos, tapping Jonesy’s cheek and batting his eyes at him. “That’s cute.” Cort looks at his wife, who has their older son, Cam, balanced on her hip. “Isn’t Jonesy adorable, wifey? He’s pretending to be a big boy.”

“I’m a big boy too,” Cam boasts. Then, he impersonates his father’s earlier move, flexing his biceps. “Pew. Pew.”

Cort feigns getting knocked back a few steps from the blast. “Easy, Lil C. Be careful with those guns.”

The adorable toddler, who still has his arms bent by his ears, releases a puff of air over one bicep and then the next like he’s blowing away the smoke.

Damn, that’s cute. I wonder if our son will do shit like that?

Amber’s face says it all—a flamboyant eye roll that ends in an indulgent chuckle. That’s exactly how most of us feel around Cort.

We spend a few minutes chatting with them and fawning over their baby. Since Amber gave birth to their daughter while Redleg has been under high-threat procedures, we’ve only met her once. She’s such a little cutie.

I study the baby sling Cort’s wearing, wondering if I could get something similar in a larger size to fit my broad chest and shoulders. I really dig how he’s able to keep the baby secure while remaining hands-free.

“Is this a homemade thing?” I ask him, pinching a bit of the fabric strap of the sling.

“Oh the baby? She came from my balls. So yeah, you could say she’s homemade.”

My eyes bulge, and my shoulders shake as I try to hold in the jolt of laughter. This fucking guy. A billowy laugh escapes Sue, sending me into further hysterics.

Although Amber’s fighting rising chuckles of her own, she slaps Cort in the upper arm with the back of her hand.

He plays dumb, prolonging the joke and getting a few more laughs from everyone. “I must have misunderstood your question. My bad. I thought you meant our daughter.” He kisses the top of her head.

“I was asking about the sling,” I confirm.

His face lights up. “If you’re looking for parenting advice, you’ve come to the right place.”

I hold out my hand. “Not parenting advice. Just curious about this wrap carrier contraption.”

He scoffs. “This isn’t just a wrap or carrier, Leo. This here is a baby levitation system, allowing them to see the world from new heights while hovering several feet above the ground.” He twists from the waist in a sloshing motion. “As you can see, the infant is floating in a complete state of euphoria, reveling in the effects of zero gravity.”

When Amber stops laughing at her husband’s antics, she cuts him off and gives me a straight answer. “It’s a Baby Tula. I’ll send you a link if you’re interested.”

“Please do.”

“Baby talk. Baby talk. You guys are boring,” Millie whines, opening and closing her hand to mimic talking. “Hey, jolly Irish Saint Nick. Let’s go see if they need a bed tester.”

Nick plants himself in front of her and squats down, giving her his back. She climbs on, and off they go.

Of all the couples here, I’m most grateful that those two decided not to multiply.

Sue sneaks around to my other side and tugs my sleeve. “Oh, Leo, my love. I think someone needs your assistance.”

I look where she’s pointing and bark out a laugh.

Kri’s got the eldest Amos, Grandpa Dickie, in a headlock. “Say you’re sorry,” she growls in his ear.

As I approach, it becomes clear she’s notreallyhurting him. Although his face is a little bit flushed, he’s laughing. The old pervert probably likes being manhandled by Kri.

Lettie’s standing in front of Grandpa Dickie, stomping her foot in protest. “Let him go, Kri. He’s an old man.”

“He was attempting to look up my skirt,” Kri throws back with vitriol in her tone. “That’s why I don’t wear them.”

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