"Mamma!" Vegard tapped on the arm of his mother, asleep in her bed.
"Mamma!" Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Yes, Vegard," she answered prying her eyes open. "What is it, Sweetie?"
"Okay." Helga propped herself up on her elbow and retrieved the glass of water on her nightstand. She brought the glass to her son's lips and together they held it while he took a long, noisy drink.
"Ah!" Vegard exclaimed after he had finished.
Helga looked at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock, just past five. Way too early to get up. Instead, she wrapped an arm around the little boy and pulled him up onto the bed. She pulled her duvet over the both of them and curled up around his little body.
"Back to sleep."
"Tell me story," Vegard pleaded, rolling around in his spot on the bed.
Helga opened her eyes to find his face mere centimeters away, looking earnestly up at her.
"Okay. Close your eyes." Once he did, she began to weave her tale.
"Once upon a time, there was a young prince called Vegard. He was strong and brave and handsome and very obedient to his King and Queen," Helga started. A snort came from behind her on the bed, which she silenced with a swift elbow jab.
" 'Prince Vegard,' the Queen said, 'we thank you for your visit, but now it is late and time for sleep.' "
Once again, Hans snorted behind her.
In English she hissed, "It's worth a shot!"
Hans propped himself up and looked over his wife's shoulder. "Well, I'll be damned," he said as he peered at the sleeping little boy.
Helga smiled at his small angelic face. "Yes, you will, dear."
Hans chuckled softly, gave his wife a kiss on the shoulder and lay back down.
A moment later Hans sat up in bed. "How did he get out of his crib?"