"It's me! Can I come in?" Alfred Sutherland called, knocking on the door to his parents' room. Despite their age, he had learned—sometimes the hard way—that it was better to announce himself before entering. His parents might have been older, but they were still, well...active. And Alfred didn't need another traumatic reminder of how he came into existence.
"Ah, it's Alfie…" Lydia's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she smiled at Arthur. Her excitement was palpable, her voice brimming with anticipation. "Tell him about his sister."
"Yes, let's," Arthur agreed, his own grin breaking through. His excitement matched hers, and the two exchanged a look of conspiratorial glee.
Arthur opened the door to his son, who hesitated on the threshold, his cautious gaze scanning the room for signs of impropriety. Thankfully, his parents were fully dressed and seated. But experience had taught him that when the door was locked in the middle of the day, it was often better to steer clear.