After dinner, Alice helped Robert take a bath while Charlie played with some sort of electronic device in her room. Hatter had taken a self-guided tour of their home and ended up in the master bedroom.
Alice strode in and informed him "Your son got water everywhere" in a tone both accusing and gentle.
He was sitting on their bed, looking at the photo album. It didn't even have that many photos in it; Alice always meant to have more printed and forgot. But he spent a long time looking at each page.
Out of habit, Alice pulled off her shirt and jeans and draped the damp clothing over the foot of the bed as she rummaged in a drawer.
She turned and noticed that Hatter's attention wasn't on the book anymore. And then it dawned on her. She was standing there in only a bra and underwear.
"I guess if you don't remember anything, this is the first time for you to see me like this."
He nodded.
"Well." She put her hands on her hips. "Now I wish I was wearing something else. Matching, at least."
"Not a problem for me."
She flushed. He hadn't looked at her like that in awhile. "That look? Isn't allowed until your children are asleep."
Alice saw a familiar mischievous glint appear in Hatter's eyes. She found it immensely comforting. He was in there.
"Also? Just so you know? These? Used to be firmer. And this? Was flatter. Carrying two of your kids to term took a toll."
He grinned and looked at his own midsection. "I seem to be a bit girthier as well."
"Yeah, well, we have two kids and spend very little time running for our lives."
Alice put on a t-shirt and pair of yoga pants.
"I'm gonna get Robert dried off. Can you see that Charlie brushes her teeth?"
"I'm not brushing my teeth."
"If your mother told you to brush your teeth–" Hatter began his argument with reason, but Charlie smelled weakness and went for it.
"But you didn't brush your teeth growing up, you've said!"
He gave her a long look. He had to wonder if Alice was this exasperating at the same age. Surely not. Himself as a child, though… Perhaps a different tactic.
"How old are you again? Ten? Twelve? Sixteen?" he asked her.
Charlie smiled. "Daaaad. We already told you. I'm seven."
Hatter made a show of looking at the ceiling in mock dismay.
"Seven's even worse. At seven, you haven't even met enough people yet, so you've no way to know. Now me, I've met a larger than fair share. And trust me, your mother is top shelf. So if she tells you that you need to brush your teeth, it's good advice is what it is."
Charlie crossed her arms, and Hatter crossed his own. "And I'm your father. Brush."
The girl rolled her eyes but picked up her toothbrush.
Hatter looked back through the door to see if his wife heard or approved of his handling the situation.
Alice of Legend was folding laundry.