Alina smiled gently. "Good. Ready?"
Dante gave a single, dignified nod. "Ready."
Alina touched her chin thoughtfully and began, "First and most important is a mat."
Dante repeated the word in a low voice as he wrote it down, "Mat." His handwriting was elegant and precise, each letter shaped as though he were signing a royal decree.
Lucien stared at the notebook in awe. "Teacher, picnics need mats?" he whispered as if he had just discovered a secret ancient rule.
"Yes, sweetheart," Alina replied with a small laugh. "A big one, so all of you can sit comfortably."
Sable nodded with full seriousness. "Teacher knows everything."
Dante paused mid-writing and looked up with a faint furrow in his brow. "Why is a mat necessary? We can simply sit on the ground."
Alina blinked at him.
"Sir," she said slowly, "do you want your babies sitting on wet grass, sand, mud, and possibly lizard poop?"
Lucien gasped as if scandalized. "Lizard poop?"
