“Did you feel that one?”
“…What about that one?”
“Yes, Toni, I can feel it.”
“…......And that one?”
You sigh and put down the baby name book, rolling your eyes, “Toni, sweetie, I know you like to feel the babies kicking but you really don’t need to ask me, the one carrying them, whether I can feel it or not.”
He chuckles and sits up properly, having been hunched over you with his hands sprawled across your skin to feel every one of the twins’ kicks, realising what was wrong with his questions, “Ah… lo siento, ________. I’m just excited! It’s twins this time!”
“I know, Toni. Two very active twins,” you tell him, “Who, by the way, are way harder to name. We need two boys and two girls’ names, just in case.”
“…We managed to pick out Luis’ name.”
You shake your head, “No, Toni, you chose Luis’ name. I just went along with it because we had the same problem last time and couldn’t decide on anything.”
Antonio picks you up and puts you on his lap, hugging you to his chest, “It’s okay, ________, we’ll think of something that’s perfect for both of them.”
“Well, start thinking,” you say, handing the book to him and resting your head on his shoulder, “I might have to leave it to you again.” Antonio goes to speak, but you interrupt, “And don’t you dare ask Gilbert or Francis. You know that a certain someone is just going to suggest calling ‘mein awesome nephews or nieces after zhe awesome me! Gilbert und Gilberta!’” you impersonate Gilbert’s voice with a very thick accent, making Toni laugh again.
“Si, I can see him saying that… And what about Francis?”
“‘…Onhonhonhon, you should just call the little cuties after me! Francis and Francesca are tres bien, non?’”
Toni laughs loudly at that one, “Alright, I see your point, chica. …That was a weirdly good impression…”
“Uh, thank you?” you say with a giggle, “But, anyway, I don’t care if it’s Spanish, English… whatever, as long as we choose something. Not German or French, though, because you know they’ll gloat about it every single day for the rest of their lives and I can only just about put up with them now.”
“They’re alright. They’re just excited like us about being uncles. …sort of.”
“I’m still naming Ludwig godfather before his brother gets near them, you know.”
Toni nods, sliding you off of his lap again to stand up, “Well, anyway, just looking through the book, I liked (name you dislike).”
You frown, “…Really? I don’t like that…”
“…We could always ask Lovi…”
“No! And don’t even consider Feli because Lasagne and Tomato are not appropriate,” you tell him.
“What?” you ask, turning to look at him.
“I didn’t say anything. Look, I won’t ask them, then. We’ll keep it between us. Since I chose Luis, how about something from (your country)?” he suggests.
“Like what? (Popular name).”
“Yeah, if that’s what you like.”
You shrug and look back at the book.
You look at Toni, who is busy looking through the book, “It doesn’t help if you whisper things, Toni. If you have a suggestion, just say it.”
He seems confused, “Chica, I didn’t say--” His speech comes to an abrupt pause when he looks out of the window as he puts the book down. “…anything…” he finishes, quietly.
You go to speak, but Toni puts a finger to his lips to silence you. He gets to his feet and turns to face the couch, frowning. You turn to see what he’s looking at and sigh in irritation. In one quick movement, you watch your husband reach behind the couch and pull up his two best friends by their hair, despite their shrieking.
“No! NONONO, STOP!” Francis wails.
“HOW DO YOU GET INTO OUR HOUSE?!” you ask, staring at them.
Gilbert chuckles quietly, looking embarrassed, “We-- ah, OKAY, TONI, PUT US DOWN! And I do NOT SOUND LIKE THAT, FRAU! I am highly offended!”
Toni lets go of their hair and they drop to their knees, rubbing their scalps.
“What’s wrong with my name anyway?” Francis asks.
“Your na-- WE ARE NOT NAMING THEM GILBERT AND FRANCIS!!”