I stroll through the extensive home theater next to the game room—I know, the irony that we prefer to build a fort—and finally find them in the impressive home gym. Jem is strapped to Carter’s chest, gnawing on that silicone hockey skate he loves so much. The sight has my lady parts doing a little dance, and I shift a little uncomfortably where I stand. “Hey, pumpkin. You found us.” He and Alannah are sitting side by side, doing bicep curls. Alannah’s weights are tiny and pink, and with each curl, she grunts out a huuu. “Hey, Auntie Ollie. Oh yeah, baby. Feel the burn!”
