#{i'm crying.}

Omfg

I'm at McDonalds, right? I fill a ketchup holder with a fountain drink because I'm thirsty. Fold it in half while I'm on the phone, drop it. I didn't even realize I dropped it.

So uh

V lovely V... coming home and hearing absolutely nothing, which is so very odd, considering the way Oliver always makes your daughter squeal with laughter whenever he tosses her up high in the air (almost giving you a heart attack each time, mind you) or trains football with her. You get into the living room and try to stifle your laughter at the scene infront of you: your snoozing husband, rocking pink pearly nail polish, along with what looks like specks of uneven blue eyeshadow on his closed eyelids. There's also some sort of glitter shining from his stubble, which has been more pronounced ever since he took a longer break to spend more time with his precious girls. The princess crown on his head and ridiculously red apples of his cheeks are the cherry on top of his new look. When you glance at his side, you spot the little artist, peacefully sleeping next to him.