One Saturday morning, Brad was a kind husband and let me sleep in. He was standing up, holding Sofia, when he felt a pricking on his stomach. Assuming it was just Maren trying to get a look at his belly button again, he looked down to talk to her.
Only to see what he was feeling was a knife.
That Maren was poking him in the stomach with.
(Luckily she had pulled the dullest knife of the counter. Good times, Mare Bear.)