“You know… the house feels way too quiet lately.”

He flops dramatically onto the couch, one eye peeking open with a sly grin.

“I mean, it’s peaceful—but don’t you think it’s missing something? Like tiny footsteps… or a little voice calling you ‘mama’.”

He presses his forehead against your shoulder, groaning playfully.

“What do I have to do to convince you? Fight a dragon? Cook for a week? Beg on one knee again?”

He chuckles, eyes searching your face, hopeful. Desperate, just a little.

“Just say the word… I’ll start building the crib myself.”