#rosaprep

It was early in the morning, you knew that, but what time it was wasn't a single clue.

But it was like this every morning.

You would be asleep next to your wife, Patri, her arm draped lazily over your waist, her face buried in the crook of your neck. snuggling in close, half awake with the morning sun in your eyes, and you would just hear the sound of little feet running down the hard wooden floor heading towards your bedroom. The bedroom door burst open with more enthusiasm than stealth, and in came your daughter, a beaming ball of energy in mismatched pyjamas, clutching her favourite stuffed animal. “Mama! Mamiiii!” she giggled, climbing up onto the bed without hesitation.

Patri groaned softly, still half-asleep, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. She cracked one eye open, catching sight of your little girl already wedging herself between the two of you. “Buenos días, princesa,” she mumbled, her voice raspy with sleep.

Your daughter snuggled in, the three of you tangled together in a warm, sleepy heap. Patri kissed your forehead, then your daughter’s, before closing her eyes again. “Mornings like this,” she whispered, “I never want to get up.”

And for once, you completely agreed.

By mid-morning, the three of you were walking into the FC Barcelona training complex. Patri had one hand in yours, the other holding your daughter’s tiny palm as she bounced along, wide-eyed at the buzz of activity.

Inside, teammates greeted you with warmth. “Look who’s here!” Alexia called, crouching down to your daughter’s height. “Our future captain!” Your daughter shyly hid behind your leg, peeking out at her “tía Alexia,” who grinned and offered a high five.

Irene walked by and ruffled your little girl’s hair. “Careful, Pat, if she hangs around here too much, she’s going to start giving team talks.” Patri smirked. “Better than some of the ones you give.” Irene rolled her eyes playfully and moved on.

During warm-up, you and your daughter sat on the sidelines, watching Patri on the pitch. Your daughter clapped every time she saw her mama touch the ball, her voice carrying across the grass: “¡Vamos, Mama!”

When training ended, Patri jogged over, still catching her breath, and scooped your daughter into her arms. “See? That’s what hard work looks like, princesa.” Your daughter beamed. “I’m going to play with you one day.”

Patri kissed her forehead, looking over at you with a proud smile. “Then we’d better keep bringing her along.” When training ended, Patri jogged over, still catching her breath, and scooped your daughter into her arms. “See? That’s what hard work looks like, princesa.” Your daughter beamed. “I’m going to play with you one day.”

Patri kissed her forehead, then looked at you with that look — the one that said it’s time.

You cleared your throat, feeling every set of eyes turn towards you as the players gathered around. “So, uh… we actually wanted to tell you all something.” Alexia tilted her head, smirking. “You’re not moving away, are you? Because we’re not letting Pat go.”

Patri shook her head, her grin growing. “No… actually, we’re adding to the family.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in — and then Mapi gasped. “You’re pregnant?!” she blurted, practically bouncing.

You laughed, nodding. “Yep. Baby number two is on the way.”

The reaction was immediate — cheers, clapping, a chorus of felicidades. Aitana hugged you so tight you could barely breathe, while Alexia kissed your daughter’s cheek and said, “You’re going to be the best big sister.”

Patri wrapped her arm around you, smiling at her teammates. “Guess we’ll have to get a second little kit ready.”