Gin

"Gin!" Sam said proudly, laying down her hand of cards.

"Sam, that's not Gin," Freddie sighed, rolling his eyes at his wife.

"Oh…" Sam said. "Well then I quit."

"Sore loser," Freddie mumbled.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "What do you want to do know?"

"Watch T.V."

"Yeah, okay," Freddie said. "Only, hey, this just in; the T.V. runs on electricity, which, thanks to this snowstorm, we currently have none of."

"Don't give me attitude," Sam snapped. "I'm bored. I need options. At least when the kids are up they at least give me something to do. You're just a nub. What can I do with you?"

"I did suggest something," Freddie reminded her, grinning seductively.

"And I told you I'd do that with you once the power came on and I could feel my hands again," Sam said, rubbing her freezing hands together. "Are you sure there's no more firewood?"

"We used that last log to make a fire for the kids to roast marshmallows," Freddie told her. "Look, if you're so bored and cold, why don't we just head up to bed?"

"Because it's only nine thirty," Sam said. "And I'm not going to become one of those tired old moms who drag themselves to bed that early. I'll find something to do."

She got up and headed to the kitchen.

"Like what?" Freddie asked, following her.

"Eating," she said simply, grabbing a loaf of bread and some of the left over marshmallows, along with ketchup and sprinkles.

"That's disgusting," Freddie cringed.

"Good. I wasn't going to offer you some anyway."

"Let me make you something edible," Freddie said, pulling the ingredients away from her. "I'll cut you up some apples and other fruit."

"Do I look like a rabbit?" Sam said, grabbing the food back from her husband. "Let me make my sandwich."

"You're not a teenager anymore, Sam," Freddie argued, taking the food back. "That's going to make you sick if you eat all of it."

"It will not," Sam shot back.

"Um, yeah it will," Freddie nodded. "And then you're going to spend all day tomorrow moaning in bed and leave me with four screaming kids to take care of!"

"Fine," Sam said crossing her arms. "But you know what?" She picked up the bottle of ketchup and squirted it across the counter at Freddie's face.

"Sam!" he exclaimed. "Alright, that does it!" He grabbed the bottle from her, which was pretty easy, seeing as she was doubled over in laughter, and squirted it into her hair.

"You didn't!" Sam cried, her laughter ceasing at once. She turned and picked up the container of maple syrup that was sitting on the stove and emptied half the bottle onto his chest.

"Oh, it's on!" Freddie said, picking up a container of chocolate sauce with quickly found its way all over Sam's face.

"You're not going to win this, Fredbert," Sam said loudly, picking up a half finished jar of grape jelly. She pulled back the back of Freddie's shirt and dumped the contents down his back.

"Come here!" Freddie said, grabbing Sam around the waste, trying hard not to comment on exactly how sexy she looked covered in a wide assortment of foods. Unfortunately, he gave into his urges and crashed his lips hard into hers. She eagerly responded and laced her hands around his sticky neck.

"What are you guys doing?"

The couple broke apart and turned to see their five-year-old twins, Emma and Ashton, and their nine-year-old son, Jason standing at the entrance of the kitchen, looking on at the scene.

"Um, well, see," Sam started. "Mommy and daddy were just playing…a little game."

"How come we didn't get to play?" Emma asked.

"Yeah," Jason nodded. "I want to play!"

"Me too!" Ashton piped in.

Sam and Freddie turned to each other and smiled.

"Okay," Freddie said, picking up the bottle of ketchup. "But you guys asked for it!"