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‘Darling.’ Says Freddie, in a voice that lets Brian immediately know he’s in trouble. ‘What in the name of God is that monstrosity?’
Brian glances down at the two-year-old who is currently bouncing around the living room, already buzzing with energy before the trick or treating has even started. ‘That’s our son, Freddie. There’s no need to call him names.’
Freddie glowers as Brian begins sniggering at his own joke. ‘I’m talking about his costume. He’s supposed to be dressed as a raven – not a strawberry!’
‘But he wanted the strawberry costume.’ Brian insists, biting the inside of his cheek in a desperate attempt to stop laughing. ‘He saw it in the shop window and wouldn’t stop asking me about it. I couldn’t say no and break his little heart.’
‘Brian, I did not carry that boy for nine months so you could dress him up as a strawberry on his first Halloween! Besides, it completely ruins the theme we were going with. You’re a witch, I’m a witch’s cat and Harry was supposed to be a raven. It was perfect!’
‘Papa!’ The toddler suddenly bounces up to Freddie, tiny hands grabbing larger ones as he looks up at his father with excited brown eyes. ‘I’m a soreberry, Papa! I’m a soreberry!’
‘Straw-berry, darling.’ Freddie corrects him gently, smiling when the little one squeals with laughter in response. He looks at the little green tights, the red plush coat, the hat with a stalk on it and has to admit that Harry does look adorable.
‘Alright, alright. He can be a strawberry.’ Freddie grumbles, rolling his eyes at Brian’s look of triumph. ‘But next year, no fruit allowed. The whole point of Halloween is to be scary, after all.’
‘Yes, because cats are the epitome of scary.’ Brian reaches over and flicks the bell on Freddie’s collar.