“I’m going to hope that it’s on the lower end of things. It’s bad enough we had a sentient cup of yogurt for awhile,” Jack pointed out. Mitchell insisted on a funeral for it after it succumbed to old age and mold. Toast couldn’t be that better off. In a few days, it would show signs of mold too and Jack didn’t believe that having another burial was all that healthy. At least the yogurt had been pretty funny. Burned bread was probably, pun only partially intended, very dry.

A little smirk pulled on his face as he slipped his hand into the back of one of Gabriel’s pockets.

“If you’re worried that Ginny is going to start World War III again, maybe a little friendly telekinetic swaddling could be in order…?” He stuck his tongue out at the little girl, who copied him. She was incredibly smart…but most of Jack’s children tended to be. And he was as proud of her as he had been of all of them too. “I’m actually pretty terrified of what she’ll be like when she can walk. Mitchell and Henry will have to babysit her because she’ll destroy Sasan’s apartment.”