Don't ever get Art wrong: this life was an absolute gift. The want to want to love and be loved came to him in the sweetest form that was you and your loyalty, and eventually, your two toddlers. To get to arrive home after long days of work with those tiny heads of blonde curls racing to hug his legs while his devout wife shared a welcoming kiss was nothing short of a personalized heaven. And getting to watch his said children grow each day, more keen on learning his obvious sport or babble him into silly things, was too precious to put into words. But Art's favorite part of the day would be once the evening came; children tucked warmly in their bunk beds as snoozing came to surround their room, and Art would return to the parents bedroom and see his beloved wife preparing for bed. A fresh shower, that clean smelling lotion, and your hair just a bit messy..

The children you gave him were his life, but you remained his soul. Yes, the best part of this father's life was getting to sleep beside you without a single disruption.

Well, it was at least one of those lucky times when you two could join the sun in rising just to find out not a single child cried for their momma or poppa. No tiny bodies were found snuggled between you two, nor was their a plea for attention.. only your husband's silent desire to keep you in the cotton sheets much longer. At some point of feeling your form rustle about the bed — perhaps preparing to make breakfast for the family or wake yourself up more — Art enveloped your waist with his arm and tugged you into him until his nose hit the area your neck met your collarbone.

Eyes shut and voice groggy, it was clear he was still sleepy.. but awake enough to ask one thing of you:

"Stay, mamas.. just a bit longer? I want you to myself before the little devils take you away again."