¹Max Verstappen

It was 11 PM. Max was downstairs, cleaning after work — wiping counters, vacuuming, and putting toys in their place. Upstairs, you were in the bathroom with your twins: Coen, sporting his dad’s blonde hair sticking up in every direction, and Sebastian, whose curls were a mix of yours and Max’s.

“Coen, don’t splash me!” you laughed as he tossed water toward your shoulder. “Splash mommy!” he squealed. Sebastian giggled, clutching his rubber ducky.

“Alright, time to wash your hair, mister blonde,” you said, scooping Coen up. Sebastian protested but eventually, both were clean, wrapped in fluffy towels.

You led them to their shared bedroom, soft dinosaur nightlights casting a warm glow. “Dino jammy!” Coen shouted, pointing at his pajamas. Sebastian squirmed happily in your arms.

You dressed them quickly, Coen first, then Sebastian. Both snug, hair slightly damp, smelling of baby soap. “Ready for sleep?” you asked. They nodded, yawning. You tucked them in, adding their favorite plushies. Coen whispered, “Story?” Sebastian echoed, “Me too…”

“One story for both,” you said, settling on the bed’s edge. By the end, both twins were fast asleep.

Tiptoeing out, you found Max in your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. “How are our little dinosaurs?” “Fast asleep,” you whispered, smiling. “Finally.” “I bet. Want some company now that the house is quiet?” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from your face.