Five year old Brice sat up in bed, his light red eyes meeting with his dad's, who currently stood in the center of his son's bedroom doorframe.
"Dad?" Brice questioned.
"What is it, Brice?" Bri asked.
"Can I hear a bed time story?"
Bri sighed at hearing his son's request.
"Maybe mommy'll tell you a bedtime story, Brice," he replied as he turned away.
"I wanna hear a bedtime story from you, daddy," Brice put in and Bri turned back towards his son.
He approached his son's bed and took a seat on Brice's bed.
"What sort of bedtime story do you want to hear?" Bri asked.
"I wanna hear about when you and mommy met when you were my age," the five year old boy replied.
Bri groaned to himself.
'Of all the bedtime stories he could have chosen, he had to pick the one I hate,' Bri thought.
But he proceeded in starting the story anyway. Midway through it, Blo passed by Brice's room on her way down the stairs, only to pause at seeing her husband currently seated on their son's bed and busy telling him a bedtime story.
She forgot about heading downstairs as she leaned against the doorframe and listened in. Bri suddenly noticed his wife watching from the corner of his eye and paused in the middle of his story as he turned his head in her direction.
"Oh, look. Mommy's here. She can finish the story in my place," he said.
Blo just chuckled.
"Nice try, honey. You have to finish telling the story now that you've started it," she said.
Bri frowned at his wife, but resumed telling the bedtime story his son had requested.