"Papa," Andre says, leaning over the side of his chair to look up at him.
"Yeah, mi hijo?" Ricardo asks, looking away from paperwork scattered over the kitchen table to check on his son. "Why aren't you still baking with Sofia?"
"Food is cooling," he says with a cute little smile. "But I have a question."
"Ok," Ricardo says, twisting around in his chair to fully face his son. "What's on your mind?"
"I was wondering," Andre says, "will the babies remember Christmas? You said they were too little last year, so- can they?"
Ricardo hums, curling an arm around Andre's waist and drawing him up to sit in his lap. "I think maybe a little," he hedges. "They're still little, and usually people have to be a little older to fully remember things. My first real memory came when I was about three," he explains, poking Andre on the nose and making him go cross eyed.
"I'm four," he says, blinking in surprise.
"Yeah, so when you're older, you'll probably remember a little from now, but not everything, and that's ok," Ricardo says with a smile.
"I don't like that, papa," Andre mumbles, pressing his face into his father's neck. "I wanna remember everything."
"I know," Ricardo says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "But it's ok, you have plenty of time to remember things. Don't worry about it, kiddo."
Andre sighs and nuzzles deeper into his father's warmth. "I guess," he mumbles.
Ricardo smiles and looks up over his head to find Sofia watching them fondly, winking at her before stroking his fingers through his son's dark hair, soothing him deeper into the doze he'd started to fall into.
She smiles back and waves before turning back to check on the baking.