“Not even safe in our room,” Simon groaned when your eldest daughter, Lottie, randomly came in as you two tried to sleep. “Wha’ is it, bug?”

“Wow, how nice, daddy. I’ll have you two know that I finally have my Christmas wishlist all ready for jolly ole Saint Nick,” Lottie said as she walked inside the room as sat at the empty spot on the bed by Simon’s body.

“God, fuck. My pockets are already crying,” he muttered. “Right, I’m buzzin’ to hear this one. ‘Ave at it.”