He grins up at the baby giggling over him and shielding his eyes from the sun glaring behind her, her excitement palpable from her joyful squeals and squirming.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” He mutters up at her, clicking his tongue and shrugging, speaking to her as if she could understand him. “You were climbing all over mommy, so we had to put you in air jail.”

Your daughter does nothing but laugh, her forearms hitting his as she flails her limbs.

He glances over at you, admiring as you sit and eat the food and enjoy your space that you needed so badly, paying little to no mind to him and daughter.

“Mommy looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she, sweet girl? You both are my pretty girls and I’ll never let you forget it.”