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“Fourty,” he argues.
Yeah, my son’s going to make an amazing businessman.
“Alright, you have a deal. Now tell me what’s up,” I prompt.
He lets out a tiny sigh before sitting down in the chair next to me.
“I accidentally spilled Mads’ paint in the art room,” he says.
I’m silent for a moment. If Mason’s more business like me, then Madison’s like her mother: artistic, cheerful, full of energy and bright light.
“Come on, Dad, say something,” my son prompts.
“I’m drawing out the suspense,” I tell him. “Pun intended.”
“I don’t follow. What’s a pun? Could you explain?” he asks and I promptly do so.
“Anyway, your sister’s going to be upset if she wakes up and finds her paint gone.”
“Which is why I wanted you to get someone to go get it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How about you go get it? I’ll get Jack to drive you to the closest art store.”
He balks. “But I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. And school is in an hour.”
“You can have breakfast once you’re back. And I’m sure you can get your sister’s paint and be back in an hour.”
“I need to wake Madison,” he says with a small pout.
“I’ll do it. You go. Get dressed and Jack will be waiting for you outside.”
His head falls back and he groans dramatically. It’s nice to see that he’s still a normal kid.
“Is this my punishment?”
“No. This is me teaching you a lesson in responsibility. I’ll think up your punishment later,” I tell him. “Or would you rather clean the paint that I’m sure is still on the floor in the art room?”
He quickly shakes his head as his hazel eyes widen. “No, thank you.”
“That’s what I thought,” I say with a smile. “Bye, Mase.”
He slides off the chair and hurriedly goes up to his room. After I finish my cup of coffee, I make a few calls before heading up to Madison’s room.
She’s sleeping adorably with her pink comforter wrapped around her. I smile when she lets out a cute little snore.
“Princess,” I call, tapping her gently on her shoulder. “Mads, wake up.”
She stirs a little and I think she’s going to open her eyes. But then she turns around and continues to sleep. I chuckle softly. Madison once told me that the most important thing in the world is sleep. She takes her afternoon nap very seriously and it’s hard to get her out of bed in the morning. Although that might have to do with the fact that she sleeps so late.
In her earlier years, I was worried she had developed some form of insomnia, but the doctors informed me that it may just be harder for her brain waves to settle at night. She’s getting adequate sleep so there’s no need to worry.
“The cook baked blueberry muffins,” I say into her ear.
That does the trick. She stirs once before sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
“Hey, Daddy,” she greets with a yawn and a sleepy smile.
“Morning, princess. Did you sleep well?”
