Jayvik dads except Viktor complains about Jayce’s enormous babies.
It wasn’t Jayce’s fault! When his first was born, the effort it was, she was… well she was a chunky girl. Healthy and wailing, hungry as an ox, and heavy. Jayce loved her as soon as she took her first breath. So did Viktor, don’t get him wrong, but as the weeks turned to months… he got tired of toting around the chunker.
And it didn’t get better.
Tilly, the first, was an average sized little girl by the time she was five. A gorgeous little golden eyed girl.
Maggy, the second, was tall her for her age but beautiful.
Lou, the third, well…. She caught up with her older sister quickly in size. Even with her wobbly legs and constantly heightening crutches.
And their baby, their dear baby boy, Ozzy, well he was the only baby that was a carbon copy of Viktor. Bright pale skin, knobby joints, long fingers, bright eyes, messy brown hair. But he had Jayce’s attitude, his mannerisms. From the way they held pencils to the way they stretched when they yawned.
Viktor complained when he had to pack around the girls as babies, when he could still walk around their cottage. But when Ozzy was born he was confined to his wheelchair, he could just plop the little thing in his lap, or have him wrapped to his chest.
When the girls got big enough, confident enough, they pushed their papa around in his chair, fussing over their baby brother
