Your nimble fingers gently tugged at the golden blonde locks of your husband's hair. His hair was soft, seeming to melt like silk with contact.
He sat crosslegged with his back to you while you sat on your knees, taking three locks of his hair and braiding them skillfully.
Your daughter was in front of him, sweeping away with a makeup brush at his cheeks, the soft bristles dusted heavily with a shockingly pink shade of blush. "Hold still daddy," she mumbled in concentration, her small hand working away to 'beautify' her father.
"Okay, okay, I'll stay still..." He said in his soft tone of voice, sounding so positively nice even in this uncomfortable situation.
You wrapped a rubber band around the end of his last braid with a smile. "Alright! I'm done!"
"So am I!" Your daughter giggled as Matthew shifted to look in the full length mirror to his left.
His cheeks were so pink that he resembled a porcelain china doll, electric blue eyeshadow reached all the way to the top of his eyebrows, and black eyeliner was caked on thickly in a very racoon-ish manner.
Suddenly, the front door opened and you all glanced at it to see just who was entering. In came Matthew's older brother Francis, who's eyes were immediately drawn to the Canadian.
"Ohonhonhonhon," he sauntered up to Matthew, "bonjour, sexy lady. I am Francis Bonnefoy." He took his hand, laying a heavy kiss on his knuckles and quickly working his way up his arm, Matthew squirming uncomfortably.
"Mama," your daughter clung to you as you attempted to not burst out into laughter, "why is uncle Francis kissing daddy?"
The Frenchman froze, his lips now placed on Matthew's upper arm. He pulled back and studied your husband's blushing face. "Hi..." Matthew said quietly.
Let's just say that Francis now watched more closely who he hit on.