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Snowman Onesie

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“Tony!” Peter called as he walked into the house laden with shopping bags, snowflakes clinging to his hair, kicking the door shut behind him. “Tony, I’m home!”

“Hey, honey!” Tony appeared at the top of the stairs, hair mussed and wearing sweatpants and glasses, with Morgan dozing in his arms. “We were just taking a nap whilst you went shopping.”

Peter placed the bags down next to the Christmas tree, shrugging his coat off as Tony came down the stairs, and held out his arms for his baby girl. “How’s your day been?”

“Lazy,” Tony smiled, handing Morgan over, who made a happy and contented noise at seeing her papa. “She puked on me after I fed her. We watched The Grinch.”

“For her enjoyment or yours?”

“No comment. How was your shopping trip? How much of my money did you spend?”

Peter grinned, pecking Tony’s lips. “Lots and lots of your money. It was very successful. Root around in the pink bag – I bought the sweetest little snowman onesie for Morgan.”

Tony obligingly started looking through the bag, which held way too many tiny pairs of fluffy snow boots and gloves for one child. “Hasn’t she got enough clothes already, sweetheart?”

“She needs a winter wardrobe. You don’t understand fashion, baby.” Peter waved him off, nuzzling the top of Morgan’s head. “She loves getting new clothes, don’t you baby girl? You love it when papa buys you stuff, don’t you?”

Morgan squealed, and Peter nodded triumphantly. “Don’t question it.”

Tony didn’t question it, and instead held up a tiny blue onesie with a snowman on the front. “This the one?”

“Yes! I’m dying to see her in it, don’t you think it’s just the sweetest thing?”

“Good lord, I married an Instagram mom,” Tony lamented, but then held it up to look at it properly, and nodded in agreement. “Okay, it is pretty cute.”

“Validation. Now, come help me change her; May’s coming over for dinner and I want her to see it.”

“Well don’t you just look like the cutest little thing,” May gushed, smoothing over Morgan’s hair. She was sat in her high chair, banging a plastic spoon on the table. “Oh Peter, that onesie is just precious!”

“I know,” Peter nodded, taking a sip of his wine and shooting Tony a demure smile. Tony shot him a glare in return. “I just bought it today – I couldn’t resist. Tony thinks she has enough clothes already, but I did say, that just isn’t the point, is it?”

“Oh Tony, don’t worry, he gets it from me,” May said conspiratorially, grabbing a wipe from the box on the kitchen table and rubbing at Morgan’s sticky hands. “You should’ve seen, when he was a baby, I couldn’t stop myself. He had more cardigans than I had clothes, full stop.”

“I did agree that it’s cute,” Tony sniffed, still stirring the gravy. “There’s a difference between thinking you shop excessively and being blind. You’re making me sound like a goblin.”

“You are a goblin,” Peter snapped. “You grudgingly admitted that it was cute.” Peter made a despairing gesture, and May made a tutting noise. “It’s a tiny baby dressed in a tiny snowman, Tony!”

“She’d be cute whatever you dressed her in!”

That’s not the point!” May and Peter cried simultaneously.

“Nobody warned me that I’d be on the receiving end of this abuse when I married you.” Tony pointed their special Christmas-themed gravy spoon at Peter, in what he hoped was a vaguely threatening gesture. “You’re ganging up on me.”

Peter sipped at his wine. “We have strong opinions, darling. May, come upstairs with me for a second; I’ll show you what else I spent Tony’s money on today.”

“Abuse!” Tony called after them. “Dinner will be ready in ten!”

“Yes dear!”

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. Morgan shrieked. “Your papa’s an asshole, baby girl.”

Morgan let out a delighted giggle, and dumped her cup of juice on the floor.