My husband told me to stay upstairs during his promotion dinner because I wasn’t “back in shape” three weeks after giving birth to twins — I agreed, but he had no idea what I’d left beside his plate

voice thundered through the house.

“Celia!”

Both babies startled.

I looked down at them.

“Well,” I whispered, “apparently we’ve been invited.”

I picked up our daughter and carried her downstairs.

Brett was already halfway up the staircase.

“What did you do?”

I handed him our son, who had started crying.

“Hold your child.”

“What?”

“Unless he’s too chaotic for continue reading …