:

Beruani bebes. 

Bertholdt declines once more, chin grazing the living room carpet. He is bordering his one hundredth push up, fifty more needed for his efforts to at least be considered a work out. He pauses, elbows locked, arms straight. 

The crying behind him has crumbled into soft, peaceful snoring. Bert grins, feeling the small bundle curled against his lower back. For one reason or another, Emerich takes comfort in his warmth and often accompanies Bert in his modest exercises. 

Annie enters the room, hair piled on to the top of her head with beige knit socks stopping mid-way up her calves. She is flushed from her own shadow-boxing match and stops halfway to gaze upon the two, a half-finished smile resting on her lips.

She approaches him, gathering up Emerich in the crook of her elbow before sitting down on the middle of his back. “A hundred more.”