“Daddy.” Roman said as he stared at the TV. When he didn’t get a response, he repeated himself a bit louder. After a few more seconds of silence he yelled, “DADDY!”
“WHAT? Fuck, hold on, Logan, give me a second,” Remus said, putting down the hair brush before going and poking his head in the living room. “What’s up, my royal sperm?”
Roman pointed at the screen, which displayed an advert for a new line of plastic crowns, and his dad groaned.
“No. You already have so many crowns, babydoll. Like, a trunk full of them.”
What a total lie! He had a shelf for his crowns, his trunk held his toy swords.
“I want a new gold one. Or I’ll tell Papa to tell Pastor Collins that you swore.” Roman threatened, but his dad just snorted.
“Trust me, Pastor Collins knows I swear. Plus, you tried that threat last week when you wanted a third milkshake.”
Roman scowled, and took a deep breath in preparation.
“Roman Junior Silva Sanders, if you throw another screaming fit I will scream right back at you.”
Roman growled, crossing his arms as he glared at his dad. He was fully prepared to scream anyways, but he was stopped by his little brother wandering into the room.
“No.” Logan stated.
“No, what?” Remus asked, raising a brow.
The toddler simply pointed at his dad, then his big brother, and shook his head.
“No. Silence.” Logan ordered before heading back into the kitchen to work on the robot he was building out of random household objects.
