“Be there, Mike. The SigInt building attached to FORCECOM.”

“Airborne, General, sir.” He paused for a moment, then continued dryly. “Sharon is going to go ballistic.”

* * *

Mike was cleaning broccoli when he heard the car pull up. He wiped his hands and opened the door to the carport so the kids could get in, waved and went back to the sink.

Cally, the four-year-old, made it through the door first and got a big, wet hug from daddy.

“Daddy! You got me all wet!”

“Big, wet daddy hugs! Arrrh!” He gestured at her with soapy hands as she went shrieking towards her room.

In the meantime Michelle, the two-year-old, had toddled in and handed him her latest creation from preschool. She got a big, wet daddy hug, too.

“And what is this masterpiece?” He looked at the scrawl of green, blue and red and flashed a quick helpless glance at his wife, just coming through the door.

“Cow!” she mouthed.

“Well, Michelle, that’s a very nice cow!”

“Mooo!”

“Yes, mooo!”

“Juice!”

“Okay, can my big girl say please?” Mike asked with a smile, already headed for the refrigerator.

“P’ease,” she answered, mildly.

“Okay,” he reached into the fridge and extracted the cup. “No spill.”

“Mess!” she countered, clutching the no-spill cup to her chest.

“No mess.”

She carried the cup into the living room for her afternoon video. “Pooh!”

“Cinderella!”

“ ’Rella!”

He heard the video player start, courtesy of the older girl as his wife walked back into the kitchen after a quick change.