A barbecue party.

A great way to celebrate a mission gone well, white man style.

So here he was, grilling some hotdogs over the barbecue while the rest of the TF141 were chatting around and enjoying their beer. Obviously, he’d introduced them to you already as the first surprise. But the other was the reveal of his infant. Only about a month old now, he was beyond excited to show all his teammates his precious creation.

He’d only told them about the little one before, but due to the weakness of their immune system, a public meet wasn’t the best idea. Until now.

“Lads, look whot I’ve got.”

He called out, Scottish accent thick. Finishing his grilling before he retrieved the little baby who had just woken up from a nap. Proudly holding the infant up from under their arms as if to display them for his men to see.

“I made this wee one.”