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The first part of our three-point plan included getting all three kids to sleep.
The second part involved opening a bottle of wine.
And the third part was solely focused on relaxing by the fire pit outside.
Since we were all so busy with kids and work, it had been a while since we’d had a real girls’ night, and this felt much-needed.
“Is Lex asleep?” Georgia asked as I walked back into the living room. She sat on the couch with a milk-drunk Julia lying across her chest, her eyes alight with both exhaustion and happiness.
“Yes,” I answered and laughed, forcing the longing pain for spit-up–stained clothes and tired eyes of my own from my chest. “But only after she asked me about a hundred questions related to medical protocol for ACL tears in professional athletes.”
“ACL tears?”
I shook my head. “I know. It’s wild. But she’s fixated on the start of the upcoming Mavericks season and, apparently, trying to figure out what injuries to what players could cause the biggest impact.”
Georgia snorted. “I swear, in about twenty years, I’m going to read an article in the newspaper about Lexi winning the Nobel Prize or some shit.”
“Tell me about it.” I sat down beside her and nodded to the precious little baby on my best friend’s chest.
“Looks like our sweet little lady has called it a night as well.”
Georgia ran her hand gently down Julia’s back. “At least for the next few hours.”
I frowned slightly. “I didn’t even get to hold her first.”
Georgia shrugged with a smile. “So, hold her now. She’s a deep sleeper, don’t worry.”
Without delay, I plucked little Julia off her chest and held her in my arms. I stared down at her cherubic-like face and her button nose and mused over the way her long dark lashes fanned across her cheeks. “This girl will break so many hearts one day. Kline is going to be in so much trouble when Julia is a teenager.”
“Mm-hmm.” She laughed and gazed tenderly at her daughter’s sweet face. “Your daddy is going to have his hands full with you, little lady.”
“I thought my kid would never fall asleep, but I did it! Praise fluffing everything!” Cassie announced as she strode into the living room, her arms raised high in the air. “A girl can only sing‘Baby Got Back’ so many times before she loses her mind.”
“Excuse me?” Georgia snorted with a tilt of her head. “‘Baby Got Back’?”
“It’s Ace’s favorite bedtime song,” Cass answered with a shrug as she headed into the kitchen.
I had to fight the urge to laugh. And the only reason I swallowed it back was because I didn’t want to startle the sweet baby angel who was sleeping in my arms.
“Cassie,” Georgia responded, sitting up to rest her elbows on her knees. “You’re joking, right? You don’t really sing ‘Baby Got Back’ to your child, do you?”
“Why would I joke about something like that? It’s my kid’s favorite song.”
“Why does Ace even know Sir Mix-a-Lot exists?” Georgia questioned Cassie as she pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Thatch loves to role-play the music video sometimes?” she answered with a shrug. “Honestly, Ace has been listening to it since he was in the womb.”
“You haven’t thought of…I don’t know…expanding his taste in music to…child-appropriate nursery rhymes?” Georgia asked, far too rationally for her crazy friend.
“Why would I fluffing do that? I can’t stand listening to that shit, much less subjecting my kid to it.”
“Because kids are supposed to listen to nursery rhymes, Cass. Not nineties rap.”
“Well, my kid has a very specific music palate. Nursery rhymes won’t cut it, G,” Cassie answered and pointed the bottle of wine toward Georgia. “For all you know, Julia would be happy as a pig in shit if you let her bop out to some Tupac or 50 Cent or old-school Jay-Z, but since you’re too busy with your dumb nursery rhymes, she can’t explore her own taste in music.”
“She’s four months old, you lunatic.”
Cassie blew out an exasperated breath and grabbed a corkscrew out of one of the kitchen drawers. “Anyway, enough talk about the boring nursery rhymes Georgia makes her kid suffer through. Who wants some wine?”
