Saturday morning, I woke up to the twins fighting in the hallway. I rubbed my eyes and saw them slowly going down the stairs with a giant box between them. They were yelling at one another to carry their half of the box.
"Did they wake you?" Dad said from behind me. I turned to see him standing there, smiling, holiding two suitcases.
I shrugged. "It's not too early." I glanced at the suitcases. "Do you need help?"
He shook his head. "No, no, leave it to me and the twins. They volunteered to help pack the car so they should stick with it." He then added. "Zeke and Noah went out for a run and should be back soon for a late breakfast of sorts."
"Oh. Okay. I'll get dressed." I closed the door and went to find some clothes.
When I went through my shirts, the Stanford Baseball shirt that Mom bought us during Zeke's visit stood out. It seemed like the perfect day to wear it in support of Zeke so I put it on and headed to the kitchen.
