Erling and Jude (12)

The Spanish summer heat at your tender age of two had you in a terrible mood, but at least you knew that your dad, Erling, had won the genetic battle hands down. Blond and tall, he carried you in his arms as we got off the plane.

As you stepped into the terminal, your grandmother Denise rushed ahead of everyone and caught you in a tight hug before your father, Jude, could even react. The whole family had missed you. Resigned, Jude went to greet his husband, Erling, with a hug as the family gathered around them.

On the way to the mansion, you calmed down by playing cars with your Uncle Jobe. That's why, when you got home, you clung to him like a koala and flatly refused to let Jude bathe you.
—If you're going to take a bath, I'll be waiting for you with an ice cream —Jobe negotiated.

You accepted instantly. As the son of two athletes, your "ice cream" was a frozen fruit smoothie without sugar or junk food, but for you it was heaven. You emerged from the bathroom refreshed and like new, sat down next to your uncle to eat your portion, and Jude kept taking pictures of you, laughing.

After the obligatory routine of brushing your teeth, you settled into the armchair with Jobe and both of you fell fast asleep. Jude took a picture of you both asleep and uploaded it to his Instagram.

A couple of hours later, when your nap was over, Jude gently stroked your hair to wake you up:
— Hey, my love... wake up now, it's time to play.