Not My Idea Either

Summary

To get under the skin of the insufferable Hawthorne triplets, I made a point of saying it loud and clear at the family dinner.

“So, have the three of you decided? Which one is going to be the lucky groom in this arranged marriage?”

They practically shoved each other away, disgust written plainly on their handsome faces.

I was about to randomly point and choose when a little girl suddenly appeared at my side.

She claimed to be from eight years in the future.

“Mommy, I finally found you.”