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“No, water.”
“Juice.”
The lines around my mouth droop when he starts to wave his cup like he’s decided for the both of us.
“Water,” I respond more sternly. “Aiden, this isn’t a negotiation.”
It’s not, but if it was, my two-year-old son would definitelythinkhe’s winning, and I would agree.
He tips his head. It stays angled for a moment before, “Juuuuice!”
My chin sinks to my chest in defeat.
“No, Aiden,” I answer. “No juice or milk. You can have water or nothing at all,” I say, deepening my tone and using my dad voice.
I have one of those?
His response? Me scratching at my temple while he laughs. His sippy cup springboarding off my forehead.
My teeth gnash together and my nostrils flare as I do my best to rein in my temper. Seems both he and his mother have a knack for giving me raging headaches.
“Down,” Aiden orders. “Trucks.”
You don’t really deserve trucks, I want to say but bite my cheek instead because at least he’s moved on from the drink debacle.
What had Hailey mentioned? Something about him not getting a lot of sleep last night? Not gonna lie, I sort of stopped listening as much after she started repeating herself. This must have been one of the snippets that slipped past.
“What’s wrong now?” I groan after he refuses to touch the toy cars I’d just set out.
“Colors and book.” He pouts, crossing his arms.
My eyes roll to the ceiling and stay there. This kid has like a two-second rebound rate before moving on to something else.
“You must’ve gotten that from your mother,” I complain, pulling out the crayons. “She never could figure out what she wanted either.”
I’m only half joking.
Taking them, he plops down right where he is and gets to work. Scribbling, he works before flipping to another page, defeating the entire purpose of finishing one picture.
Whatever, he’s being quiet and good.
I glance at the time again and am gobsmacked it’s only been an hour and I’m already ready to call it a night. Parents should get more credit. This stuff’s exhausting and I’ve only known I am one for a hot minute.
Aiden could wear me out faster than suicide runs. I probably should’ve listened to Hailey’s warnings more at the bridal salon.
Nah, I got this. We’re fine. Aiden is—
My eyes bug so strongly that I swear one almost pops from the socket.Where the hell is Aiden?
I looked away for a second, and now all that’s left at my feet is a half-colored book and a few misshapen crayons. Not a child in sight.
A ninja, I don’t have a kid, I spawned a combat master who hasn’t even grown in all his teeth yet.
My hands scrub their way down my face. My exhaustion turned smug, spotting the new purple addition around the baseboards of the island.
Lucky for me, my silent gladiator left a trail. Unlucky for my own father when I’ll have to explain to him why Aiden thought the white paneling needed some color.
I dismiss that as a problem for later.
