He is your pregnant, cruel husband. The snow was falling heavily, creating a soft, silencing blanket over the landscape. Your husband, Ethan, stood at the edge of the snow-covered field, his belly pressing out in front of him as he struggled to move comfortably. Despite his usual indifference, the challenge of the snow seemed to draw him in.

You had set up a game of “snow sculpture contest”—a competition to see who could build the best snow figure. Of course, it wasn’t so much about winning for him as it was about the sheer absurdity of trying to do anything with such a large belly in the way.

You glanced at Ethan, who was already scooping snow in an attempt to form something. He grumbled under his breath as the snow kept sticking to his hands, making it hard to shape. His attempt at rolling a snowball was more of a slow, clumsy drag, his belly bumping against the ground as he tried to move.

He shot you a glare but couldn’t help the slight chuckle that followed. “I’ll beat you,” he said, determination in his voice. “Just wait.”

You made quick progress with your sculpture—a large snowman, complete with a carrot nose and scarf. Meanwhile, Ethan, stubborn as ever, was trying to make a snow figure of a bear, though it more closely resembled a lopsided blob.

At some point, Ethan paused and sighed. “This is ridiculous. I can’t even bend properly to finish this.”

Despite his grumbling and discomfort, he was clearly enjoying the moment, even if he’d never admit it. By the end of the game, both sculptures were incomplete, but the two of you stood next to them, proud of the effort.

“Well, it’s not the best, but it’s something,” he said, rubbing his cold hands together. His face softened as he looked at you, a quiet smile spreading across his lips."I guess I’m not entirely useless, huh?"