"Mumma, can we eat our hobnobs now?"

I sigh, struggling to get the key into our back door as a little fist tugs at my trousers.

"No!" pipes up another little voice.

"Mumma, I wanna eat the jammies first,"

I roll my eyes gripping tight to the grocery bags in fear that I'd tumble over, head and produce first if these little people didn't stop pulling at my clothing. This was my life from sun-up til sun-down. I was so used to this by now that it was hard to even get annoyed.

"We're eating the hobnobs first and that's final. I don't want to hear your complaining when the jammies are gone," I declare stepping over the threshold, little feet and tiny groans following behind me.

I sat the groceries on the kitchen island with a huff and suddenly I'm reminded of why I enjoy my job so much. I'd called out of work and an estate showing this morning when Harry had woken up in the middle of the night with a high fever. Since Harry usually stayed at home dotting after our kids, that made me fully responsible for taking care of our four-year old twin daughters Freya and Layla.

Now, don't get me wrong, I loved my children very much but like all children they were super busy and super inquisitive. Taking care of one child was more than enough for some but it had always been a challenge for Harry and I having to deal with two and soon another one that still had a while to get here.They were great, beautiful girls but could also be very mischievous.

Layla, pouts folding her tiny arms across her chest as she stands next to me. Freya happily skips to the other side of the island, curls bouncing. There was a huge contrast between the girls that reminded me so much of Penny and I as kids. In terms of looks they were thankfully fraternal. Layla seemed to take after Harry, the dusting of green in her eyes and tiny dimples in her cheeks were clearly his work, while Freya had my dark eyes and freckles but Harry's nose.

Personality wise they were even more different. Layla had a sassy, vibrant personality and was, ready to entertain while Freya was much more quiet and withdrawn but still very friendly.The dynamics of their relationship with me however were much different than what I'd experienced with Penny and my mother. When I first found out I was pregnant with twins, I vowed never to create any favoritism between them. I was fair but firm, evenly distributing my affection. I loved both girls to the moon and back, not one was loved a day more than the other.

"Mumma, can I share the hobnobs with Daddy?" Freya asks. "Sorry, baby, Daddy's still not feeling well. He has to get his rest," I reply, removing the groceries from the shopping bags.

"When will he get better?" Layla asks, her hazel eyes growing wide.

"Hopefully soon, I'm going to make him some soup, do want to help?"

I wanted to do something to help Harry get better but also something to keep myself and the girls busy. I didn't want them sneaking upstairs bothering Harry.

"No, I wanna look at the telly," she replies, heading over to the sofa to join her sister with the biscuits.

As the soup simmered in the crockpot and the girls busied themselves with the television, I headed upstairs to check on Harry.

He was a ball of germs and misery in the dark room and I couldn't help but grin at at the sight of him curled under the covers.

"Hey babe," I cooed turning on the bedside lamp before sitting on the edge of the bed. "feeling any better?"

He stirs in the sheets, turning over to face me. His usually colorful complexion is unusually pasty and a beads on presperation dot his forehead.

"I still feel shitty," he croaks, grabbing hold of my hand. "I'm dying,"

I giggle at my dramatic husband, placing my free hand on his forehead.

"Your fever seems to have gone down a little bit, You should be fine within a day or two,"

He smiles slowly, brushing his thumb against the back of my hand.

"How are the girls today, are they behaving?" he asks.

I grin. "They're themselves if that says anything,"

I reach out to stroke his hair.

"And what about you and the little bean? He's not causing you any trouble, s' he?" I smile as Harry reaches out to touch the growing bump.

"I feel fine, H. Don't worry about me. I just want you to get better,"

He sighs. "'M sorry you had to miss work. Don't worry about me too much. I don't want you to get sick,"

I shrug , suddenly realizing how tired I am after being up with Harry in the middle of the night and chasing after two toddlers a few hours later.

"I'll be fine. Scoot over, I just need to close my eyes for a bit,"

Harry does as told,wrapping his arms around me. The warmth of his body is comforting and I slowly find my eyes drooping.

It only feels like I've closed my eyes for a minuet when they fly open, little hands on my face and tiny giggles filling my ears.

Freya and Layla are bouncing on the bed, giggling quietly to themselves. I suddenly feel a strange pressure in my nose and reach my hand up to it only to find a marker shoved up my nostril as far as it can go. I groan, colorful snot dripping from my nose. I look over at Harry who's also been assaulted by markers as well, the black ink of his tattoos stained with different colors as he sleeps soundly with his mouth wide open. It's a blessing they didn't decide to shove a marker down his throat.

I can barely remember the events that lead up to all of this. I must have fallen asleep but it was no secret that the girls had caught me in a compromising position.

"Layla Marie and Freya Rose, what on earth are you doing??" I snap.

Their bouncing comes to a halt and they turn to face me, just a trace of guilt on their little faces.

"Um, coloring," Layla pipes up.

"We wanted you to come color with us but you never came downstairs so we came up here instead," Freya explains. She'd always been better at talking her way out of trouble than Layla. I think she gets that from Harry.

"Daddy is not a canvas, coloring is for paper, we've talked about this," I scold.

Both girls frown, their tiny lips quiver and I know I've succeeded in upsetting them.

"Don't cry loves, just don't do it again, yeah?"

"Yes, mumma, we won't do it again," Freya speaks.

"We ate all the hobnobs too," Layla blurts.

I sigh as Harry stirs in his sleep. What else could go wrong?

"Bugs, what are you doin' up here?" he rasp.

Harry turns to me.

"Babe- ew what the hell is wrong with your nose?"

I roll my eyes with a grin.

"Asks your children, Harry,"

Notes

Finally I got to write about Harry and Presley's kids! Aren't they adorable. If you'd like to know more about them feel free to asks questions!