It had taken all day, but the apartment was finally quiet.
The twins had been especially wild after daycare, and baby Mila decided today was the day she’d try to eat a crayon. But now, all three were asleep—finally. You stood outside the bathroom, rubbing a spot of marker off your arm while Simeon called softly from inside.
“Bath’s ready, love. And I triple-checked—the monitor’s on.”
You smiled as you stepped in, immediately greeted by the sweet scent of vanilla bubbles and a warm, candlelit glow. The toys had been cleaned up, and the rubber ducks had (mercifully) been corralled to the corner. Simeon was already in the tub, his head leaning back, damp curls clinging to his forehead, looking tired—but happy.
“I thought we’d never get them down,” you said, slipping in beside him. “I swear, Niko made it his life’s mission to delay bedtime tonight.”
He groaned dramatically. “He asked for water five separate times. I think it was just an excuse to show me his 'ninja moves' again.”
You laughed, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around your waist. The warmth of the water melted the tension right off your shoulders, and you sighed, forehead brushing against his cheek. “We’re really doing this, huh? Married, three kids, still in college, and somehow… still alive.”
“Barely,” he muttered with a grin, then kissed the top of your head. “But look at us. We make it work. And we’re kinda adorable.”
“Kinda?”
“Fine,” he said, trailing bubbles across your arm, “we’re disgustingly adorable.”
For a few rare, beautiful minutes, there was no chaos. No spilled snacks, no diaper disasters, no textbooks scattered across the floor. Just the two of you in a warm bath, tired but content, hearts full in a way no GPA could measure.
As you closed your eyes, Simeon whispered, “Ten bucks says Mila wakes up in twenty minutes.”
You laughed again. “Five says it’s Niko. And he’ll want a snack.”
“Deal.”
And even though you both knew this peace wouldn’t last, it was enough.
Because this little life—messy, noisy, imperfect—was your dream come true.