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BoCo walked with a sigh. Walked, and sighed. It wasn't exactly the hardest day he could remember, but it had certainly done its best to become one. Right now, he wanted only one thing - to finally get home and collapse into an armchair for at least five minutes.
He was leading his two adopted children by the hands - the little ones Bill and Ben. Of course, he loved them, without a doubt, but love alone wasn't enough to raise children, it also required extraordinary patience. BoCo possessed both qualities, but today his nerves had once again been put to the test.
First, they'd had a fight in the sandpit. Bill hit Ben on the head with a toy spade, and Ben had retaliated by pouring a handful of sand down his neck, so BoCo had to calm one down and shake the sand out of the other. Then Bill came to him and said that Ben had eaten some strange berries and hadn't shared them with him. In a panic, BoCo hurried with Ben to the hospital, taking Bill along as well because there was no one else to look after him. And all of that, only for Ben to later admit, with a guilty look, that these were just ordinary mulberries. By that point, BoCo didn't even have the energy left to be angry.
He felt like a squeezed lemon as he made his way home from the hospital with them.
I want my armchair. And a coffee. And a book. Oh, Lady, help me, he muttered to himself.
Things weren't any easier at home, either. First, he had to get both twins to wash their hands. Then he had to change them out of their dirty overalls and into clean clothes. Then he had to cook dinner while making sure neither of them climbed onto the table or the hob, knocked a plate over onto themselves, or got into some other kind of trouble. Finally, after sending them off to their room, BoCo sank into his favourite armchair with a book. Blissful peace.
He revelled in the silence. As he turned the pages, BoCo thought how wonderful it is to finally be able to relax. The book was fascinating, and he lost himself in it. The house was peaceful and quiet.
"Wait, stop."
Quiet?
BoCo froze without turning the page. If the children are sits quietly...
He burst into their room, startling Ben into dropping his coloured pencils and Bill into dropping his scissors. Documents lay scattered across the floor. Very colourful documents, covered in pencil and paint, with flowers drawn over the construction estimates and something that looked suspiciously like a dinosaur on the bank statement.
"Oh, BoCo!"
"Look, BoCo! Isn't it pretty? We thought the black-and-white photo was boring, so we made it colourful!"
With that, Ben handed BoCo a photo they had cut out of his passport, previously black and white, but now covered in bright colours. BoCo let out a wheezing sigh.
"What have you done?! Those were very important papers! You weren't even supposed to touch them, and now you've ruined them!"
The twins shrank back at BoCo's sharp outburst. Ben sniffled. Bill lowered his head. Their beloved dad was angry with them, and that was both upsetting and depressing.
BoCo paused. After all, it was entirely his own fault. He had dropped the folder of documents onto the chest of drawers in their room without thinking while rushing them to the hospital, then forgotten all about it. They only wanted to surprise him and make him happy. Of course, they hadn't known that these were an important papers.
He crouched down beside them. Then he reached out and ruffled Bill's dark hair, then Ben's, with that funny bowl cut, and smiled.
"Hey. Listen, lads, it's really lovely, it truly is. But next time, let's make sure you ask before taking any paper, all right? I really need paper like this, and if you want to draw, we'll always use plain white sheets, like we usually do. Okay?"
"Okay."
BoCo knew there was only one way to stop them from sobbing completely - he had to give them a hug. A really tight one. Which was exactly what he did straight away. BoCo have no doubts about the fact they would test his patience again and again with their antics and pranks, but his love for them would never waver.
There would be many, many happy years ahead.