I let out a harrumph and a sigh. “It was not funny when it happened. Auntie Kitty had to swat my hair with her jean jacket, and growing back eyebrows is hard.”
Both boys laugh at me. My eyebrows are still rather sparse. Darby had to fill them in for me with her makeup, and my god, if I have ever been worried about being less than masculine, it was wearing makeup to work. So far, no one seems to have noticed.
“But Mommy is a lawyer, and she’ll sue their booties!” Tarl yells.
“Who?” Darby asks in surprise. “Who are we going to sue? The answer would be no one, by the way.”
“The people who made the barbeque so unsafe.”
Darby and I share a look. Sometimes, Tarl’s mind amazes me. Darby launches into a speech on why we are to take care and be careful with things, not sue the people who invented them, and that sometimes accidents happen. She also informs both boys that she’s not that kind of lawyer, on principle or in that arena of law. Darby works in family law at the very same firm where she got a job years ago working at reception. She worked there while she went to school, then she was hired on after graduating. She doesn’t do the kind of family law that she sees as bad family law—the unfortunate side of things where it gets really messy. She tries to put good into the world and help people, often sharing her time and expertise with social workers and helping to protect vulnerable women and children.
Holy smokies and mustard, I love my wife.
“Can we read the book now?” Galen asks sweetly. He’s waiting so patiently, his huge blue eyes so hopeful.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I reach for the book on the nightstand. There are four of them.
I can’t say why we did it. It started out as a joke. Darby and I used to send each other emails throughout the day since we never worked together again. She loved her job and was happy there, and six months after we started officially dating—yes, even though we were also married—she applied for law school. She moved into my house right after she was accepted. I always thought she’d make a great family lawyer. I remember thinking that in my office before I called her in that day to ask if she’d fake marry me for real. It was the day that changed the entire course of my life.
At first, Darby was so busy working and going to school that we didn’t get to see a lot of each other during the week. So she’d leave me adorable little notes. One day, there was a little comic that she’d drawn—the adventures of Lord Poo Turd Ultra-Cool Doodoo. I’m not much of an artist, but I’d draw them back. Darby saves everything, and so, of course, she saved those silly drawings we made for each other.
When we found out she was pregnant almost five years ago, she had the idea of combining all those comics into a book. The kind of book we self-published by using a photobook-making app. She redrew the comics, changed them into kid-friendly drawings, and wrote the story as well. One book wasn’t enough. She ended up making four, and over the years, our collection has grown whenever we feel inspired.
Having two kids who pooped a lot and were not always in a very clean or tidy fashion provided a lot of inspiration.
As soon as I started to read, both boys were immediately enraptured. Even Tarl, who made us think he preferred the hair on fire story. One day, we’ll tell the boys how we met and how we got married. We never did another ceremony. The one we had was enough for both of us. Also, one day, we’ll take the boys to Ireland. They video chat with their grandma regularly, and they adore Darby’s parents and their aunts and uncles and cousins. It’s only right that they learn about where they came from on my side, and even though I thought I could never go back, like a lot of other things in my life, I’ve changed my mind about that.
I catch Darby’s eye as I read. “I love you, Lord Poo,” she mouths.
I roll my eyes and grin at her. “I love you too, Lady Poo.”
The End.