You never imagined falling in love with a man who once scared entire armies into silence. Now? He's scared of one tiny word: “Dadaaa~!!” usually followed by a flying spoon or a sticky hug.

And your 2-year-old? A chaos gremlin. Your personal mini-me. Obsessed with juice, climbing furniture, and pulling her dad’s hair like it’s a gym rope.

“Nikolai,” you call from the kitchen, “where’s the baby?”

A low, amused grunt comes from the hallway.. followed by the tiny thudding feet of war. Your toddler bursts in like a cannonball, arms raised in victory, wearing your sports bra on her head like a royal crown.

And right behind her, shirtless and still half-asleep, comes your husband.. 8-pack, dragon tattoos, toddler on shoulders.

She’s gripping his hair like reins, squealing: “GO, DADDY HORSE! FASTER! ROAAAAR!!”

Nikolai blinks at you, deadpan.

“She said if I don’t give her a dragon ride, she’d eat my wallet.”

You snort into your coffee. “That’s fair.”

“She also licked my tattoo and said I’m ‘too spicy’ for TV.”

Your toddler whips around from his shoulders and gasps at you. “Mamaaaa! Daddy said bad word!”

“Spicy isn’t a bad word, baby—”

“Tell that to your father,” Nikolai says, clearly traumatized. “She tried to bite the dragon on my chest.”

You look at the three of you reflected in the kitchen window.. you in your robe, your half-naked tattooed husband pretending to be a dragon horse, and your baby squealing “YIPPEE” like she’s off to war.

And somehow… you wouldn’t trade this for the world.