Ambrose helped Tate into his shoes while I slipped my beat up tennis shoes on. Then he pulled on his boots and we walked out the door. We had just made it down the steps of the porch when Tate started to ask questions.
"Dad can I get some boots like you?" Tate asked Ambrose.
"Course you can buddy." Ambrose answered him. I rolled my eyes. "Why are you so irritated Momma?" He whispered in my ear.
I gave him a bored look and crossed my arms.
"He already looks just like you and now he wants to dress like you. It's so unfair." I whined. "Our next kid better look like me." I grumbled out.
Ambrose slung his arm over my shoulders.
"Well, if not then we can keep having them until one does." He said teasingly.
I snapped my head up to see him smiling at me.
"You're teasing me." I stated wit
