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“This is a truly idiotic thing to quarrel over, Patton,” Logan muttered as he moved to walk to the bedroom.
“You take that back! This is important!”
Remy snorted from his place on top of the fridge. “It’s pretty lame, gurl. I’ve gotta agree with Father on this one.”
“Remmington Sanders, how many times have I told you not to go on top of the fridge?” Patton scolded, turning to his son.
“More times than it took Virgil to stop.”
“You children, I swear--” Patton made a move to scold Remy more, but he remembered the original argument and spun around to his husband, who was trying to sneak away. “Oh no, you don’t, mister!”
“Patton. Darling,” Logan said, trying to play to his husband’s sympathies, “I just don’t see why we need multiple candy bowls for the trick-or-treaters! One should be plenty if we refill it.”
“But the kiddos!”
Remy rolled his eyes and jumped from the fridge. “Look, babes, they’re not gonna know the difference. They’re, like, six.”
“GET THE BOWLS!” screeched a tiny voice from down the hall. Virgil, the youngest of the Sanders, scrambled down the hallway dressed up in his vampire costume and jumped into his dad’s arms. “Spooky!!!”
Patton smirked and cuddled the small child. “You were saying about them being six?”
“That’s not fair...” Remy grumbled.
“Too bad. Looks like we’ll have to wait for Papa to break this tie. Isn’t that right, little monster?”
Virgil nodded enthusiastically, smiling brightly as his dad bounced him. “Uh-huh!”