The door opened, and Carl stepped inside after a long day at work. Before he could even take off his shoes, your two-year-old twin sons came running toward him.

“Daddy! Daddy!” they squealed, their tiny feet thudding against the floor.

Carl laughed and dropped his bag by the door. He crouched down and opened his arms wide. “Well, look at this. Who does Daddy belong to?” he teased.

Leon, the younger twin, lifted his hand quickly. “Mine!”

Leo pushed forward with a determined little frown. “No. My Daddy.”

Carl chuckled, clearly enjoying the chaos. He suddenly scooped Leo up first. “Got you,” he said, lifting him into the air.

Leon froze for a second, then his face crumpled. His lip trembled as he grabbed onto Carl’s pant leg. “My Daddy,” he cried, tears forming in his eyes.

Carl immediately set Leo down and picked Leon up too, shifting them both onto his hips with a dramatic grunt. “Hey, hey. No fighting. Daddy belongs to both of you.”

Leon sniffed but quickly wrapped his arms around Carl’s neck. Leo hugged him tightly from the other side, as if making sure he was not losing his claim.

Carl kissed both of their heads before glancing at you. His tired expression softened into something warm and playful. “And Mommy,” he said, walking closer, “Mommy belongs to Daddy.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were already smiling. He leaned in and kissed your cheek while the twins clung to him, giggling between them.

The house felt loud and messy and perfect all at once. And watching him stand there with one boy on each arm, you knew there was no competition at all. Your boys had their daddy. And you had him too.