best grandad coffee mug

Rhyme heard Poem’s childhood name for him as he rose from slumber. It wasn’t particularly late, but he had a decent sleep in. The kids were quiet, which should have been an alarm in itself. They were very close to a year old now and the rules were beginning to loosen. They’d be adults soon and any semblance of control over them would be gone. Not that he had much to begin with. The younger brood was forgotten as his blue and lavender eyes fell on Poem and Theory outside the den.

He furrowed his brow as he dipped his silver touched features from the entrance of the den. ”I’m either too paranoid with your younger siblings, or the two of you are up to no good.” He grinned at his daughters, both beautiful blossoms. He said nothing for the moment, but as Poem’s scent wafted towards him. He could be wrong, but he suddenly had a very good idea what was about to be said.