“There’s no way in hell I’m wearing that!” Jude folded his arms over his chest.
“Come on, Uncle Jude. It’s fun!” Everly grinned at her uncle.
“I’m gonna need breaks from time to time and someone else will need to take my place in the tank. Might as well be you.” Ronan wiggled the costume in front of Jude, who snatched it out of his hands.
“Fine. I’ll try it on, but I won’t like it.” Jude headed toward the bathroom.
Everly grabbed Jude’s phone and turned on the video camera. “Come on, Uncle Jude! Let’s see your costume!”
Ronan tapped on his phone and seconds later, the Chicken Dance started to play.
Jude dashed into the kitchen and started doing the dance with Ronan.
“Dance Daddy!” Wolf cheered. He clambered off his stool and joined Ronan and Jude who were not only dancing, but clucking their little hearts out, while Everly filmed them.
“What the hell is going on?” A stunned Fitzgibbon asked from the kitchen door. Aurora giggled beside him.
“We’re doing the Chicken Dance, Uncle Fitz! Do you like the chicken costumes?” Wolf shouted, over the music, which seemed to be playing on repeat.
“I got one for you too!” Ronan danced his way to the laundry room and came back with a third costume.
“Oh, fuck no. There’s no way I’m putting that ridiculous thing on.” Fitzgibbon looked like he wanted to bolt out the door.
“One of us! One of us!” Ronan chanted, with Jude joining in. “One of us!”
“What do you think? Should I put on the chicken costume?” Fitz asked Aurora who was laughing too hard to answer. She nodded her head, but it was hard to tell if she was answering her father or grooving to the music. Reaching out to Ronan, Fitzgibbon took the chicken outfit and slipped it on over his clothes. He followed along to the steps of the dance.
Everly joined in with the others, holding Jude’s phone high above her head recording every ridiculous moment.
“They’ve all lost their minds,” Tennyson said as he walked into the kitchen with Ezra, who ran to Ronan and did his own crazy version of the dance.
“Whoa,” Cope said, setting Lizbet down, who looked like she wanted to run in the opposite direction.
“It’s Daddy, Lizzy B!” Jude waved to his daughter and started toward her, nearly tripping on his giant orange feet.
The baby whimpered and hid behind Cope. “It’s okay, little girl.” Cope knelt beside his daughter and tried to comfort her.
“What are you guys doing back so soon?” Ronan asked, stopping the music.
“Story time was packed,” Ten answered. “There wasn’t any room for us to sit and enjoy the story, so we decided to come home and help with the baking.”
“And the eating,” Cope added. “We picked up more supplies for the cookies, but before we start baking, does one of you want to explain what in the name of Foghorn Leghorn is going on here?”
Ronan did his best imitation of the cartoon chicken, with Jude and Fitzgibbon joining in.
“Do we call 911?” Ten asked. “Or is there a different number to call for men dancing around in chicken suits?”
“This is my outfit for the dunk tank,” Ronan said. “I got one for all three of us, so that we can take turns in the tank. I figured, I’d cluck at the people throwing the balls to make them miss the target, you know like the people who sit in the endzone at football games who try to distract the kicker?”
“Surprisingly enough, that makes sense.” Ten shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t buy one of these ridiculous costumes for me.”
“Of course not.” Ronan pressed a kiss to Ten’s cheek. “I knew there’s no way in hell you’d dress up like this.”
“But you thought Fitzy and I would?” Jude asked.
“Uh, yeah.” Ronan snorted. “Exhibit A.” He pointed between his two partners.
“Dad, can we bake the cookies?” Everly asked. “Now that we’ve settled the chicken debate.”
