The prompt: domestic life, cleaning things, folding laundry, watching movies. – Johanna
“Evania’s down.”
“’Kay,” I say. “Aiden’s almost done with his bottle.”
Damian falls onto the couch next to me with a huge sigh. “I never knew kids would be so exhausting.”
I shoot him a look. “You obviously didn’t work in your church’s nursery for three years.” I wince. “Some days it was painful.”
“No. I did not.” He smiles. “And thankfully my Celtic Thunder life was kind enough not to involve kids on the bus.”
“Thank goodness.” I roll my eyes. “Can you imagine?”
“A tour bus, a homicidal maniac, and kids! Sounds great!” Damian says, sticking two thumbs up. His tone is dripping with immense sarcasm.
“Not,” I add. I pull the bottle out of Aiden’s mouth; it’s drained dry. “Okay. He’s done.”
“Want me to lay him down?”
“I can do it.” I stand up. “And then we have a pile of laundry to do.”
“Oh, joy.”
I walk past Damian and away from the couch. He pinches my waist and I squeal. “I hate you,” I say.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
I lay Aiden down, then go out into the living room and drag over the laundry basket.
“Kiss me,” Damian says.
“No,” I say.
“Please?”
“We have underwear to fold.”
“That’s so romantic.”
“I know.” I pick up a pair of socks, but I can’t help it—I kiss him anyway.
