"It's not like she's all that welcome everywhere magical just because we're married," Don replied, frowning a bit at Myron. "She's seen me use magic and she's fascinated and all, but since we live in muggle London we decided that it's easier to keep magic to a minimum. Which means that most things get cleaned up the long way," he said pointedly, trying to get it across that he'd appreciate if no big messes were made this time.
"Sssh," Don said, putting his finger to his lips and making down motions with his other hand as though trying to keep Myron quiet. He really didn't want to be reminded of what he'd said, especially since he knew that Myron was older. It just... slipped out! He couldn't help what came out sometimes! His mouth was starting to go into permanent dad mode or something!
"Darn right you should! The little thief is normally the last to share." Don figured the only reason he'd offered to share was because he could tell Don was annoyed with them getting sweets and didn't want them taken a way. In his mind as long as he did something good then nothing he considered bad could happen.
He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking from Myron to the triplets. "Of course you do! They're what? Like three foot tall?" If that. It was amazing how tiny they were when they were born. Don used to be afraid that he was going to break them just touching them and they'd had to spend so much time at the hospital. He still sometimes was afraid he'd break them.
"P'ay, Un'ca My'on? Dada?" The little thief was beckoning them into the sitting room and pointing toward the pile of toys on the floor. And without waiting for a response he turned and toddled off, the two others following along behind him until he plopped down with the building blocks and started to construct... something.