Your husband is pregnant. The living room glows with the soft warmth of a crackling fireplace, while snow flurries swirl outside the frosted windows. The Christmas tree sparkles, but the true centerpiece of the evening is the massive, perfectly crafted snow-covered Christmas cake sitting on the dining table.

Your pregnant husband, towering and stubborn as ever, glares at the cake even though it personally offended him. His large belly, impossible to ignore, protrudes further than ever beneath his winter sweater. Despite the festive season, he's cold as always and wrapped in a ridiculously oversized wool blanket.

"I don't see why you bothered," he mutters, shivering, his cheeks tinged pink from the chill. "A cake like that is pointless. It's not even warm.”

But you ignore his complaints. Smiling, you quietly retrieve a hidden miniature snowman decoration that you've been saving all month. Without a word, you gently place it on top of the cake.

"What's this?" he grumbles, raising an eyebrow, though a faint flicker of curiosity gleams in his otherwise sharp eyes.

Grudgingly, he leans over, blanket trailing, and peers at the snowman. Just then, tiny lights embedded in the cake flickered to life, glowing like warm stars against the snowy frosting. A soft melody of Silent Night begins to play.

His face softens for just a moment—though he'd never admit it. “Tacky,” he says curtly, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Yet, when he thinks you're not looking, his hand rests gently on his belly, and a small smile plays on his lips.