Today is the Eve of Christmas Eve, as Faylinn has called it since we were kids.
I got the shock of a lifetime when my phone woke me up to a picture of my wife in a Santa Hat . . . and nothing else. Those weren't the types of pictures I meant when I asked her to send them, but I'm not saying no to them either. Faylinn's body is fuller now since having the kids but still toned, and f**k me, my wife is so f*****g sexy. Which is why I spent ninety minutes in the shower j*********f before coming for breakfast. Clara made waffles, bacon, and eggs this morning because she clearly spoils the s**t out of the men in this club, especially my twin brother. Claddagh is whipped as hell by that woman, but she treats him like a king.
And being whipped ain't a bad thing. I've always rolled my eyes
