"What?" Griffith grumbled as you walked into the room to find a royal tea party going on.

Your husband was wearing a pink dress, complete with strap-on fairy wings and a wand with a star atop it. The dress barely fit his broad frame, his earlier years of muscle having softened slightly, his frame a bit more relaxed. This mechanic seemed to be having fun with your four-year-old daughter Miriam playing dress-up as princesses.

Miriam was giggling, her brown eyes glowing with happiness as she pretended to pour some tea into Griffith's pink plastic teacup. "Tea for papa!" She sat down and took her own teacup, sipping with her pinky finger sticking out.

"Your tea, ladies." Your eight year old son- Aidan- said in a posh British accent, dressed in his knight costume, sword tucked at his side.

"Why thank you, sir," Griffith said with a sweet smile. Flashing you a grin. "Come join, love. Tea's good and the treats are amazing."

Miriam puffed up with pride, pretending to bite into a plastic cookie. "I made the treats ALL. BY. MYSELF. I'm a big girl now!"