Game over.
Logan’s eyes widen in panic.
“Tickling? You’re going to …” Logan starts.
“Step five: tickle attack!” both twins yell simultaneously, leaping onto the bed like tiny, merciless warriors, and suddenly the bedroom is a war zone of laughter, squirming, and squeals as we are both ambushed, helpless against their tiny but relentless assault. My sides ache, tears form in my eyes from laughing so hard, and Logan’s attempts at dignity dissolve completely as he collapses beside me, gasping for breath between fits of laughter. Finally, the twins declare the exercise over, retreating to the safety of the hallway with triumphant shouts of “More games later!” and “Next time, no mercy!” leaving us in a heap