The second I stepped outside, Rich snatched Shiloh right out my hands like he’d been waiting on me.
“My boy six months today,” Rich said, holding him up like Simba. “Time to get off ya mama titty.”
I barked out a laugh, but I wasn’t joking when I said, “Bro, I’m so ready for him to get off her titties.”
Stormi breastfed, yeah, but she pumped more than anything. Didn’t stop Shiloh from thinking he owned ‘em. Pacifier, pillow, emotional support boobs whatever he needed, he went right to her.
I watched Rich bounce him around, and all I could think was damn this little family of mine ran me crazy, but I wouldn’t trade it for nothing.
I was still laughing with Rich when the front door swung open and Stormi stepped out first, hip cocked, Shiloh’s diaper bag on her shoulder like it weighed nothing. Sun kissed the side of her face and made her skin glow. Yeah, I stared, couldn’t help it. My wife was fine as hell.
Behind her came the grandma’s fussing, Noah complaining about having to dress up, and Southside trying to keep S3 from sliding down the railing. Stormi shot me that look. Pissed me and the boys left before the pictures were done.
“You really walked out mid shoot?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
Before I could speak, S3 pointed at me like a snitch. “Daddy said he was tired of takin’ pictures.”
Stormi sucked her teeth. “Seth, it was two more poses.”
“Baby, it felt like twenty,” I said, slipping an arm around her waist. “You know Jo think she on a red carpet.”
My mother walked past us adjusting her big ass hat. “And y’all gon’ stand here talkin’ while church startin’ in ten minutes,”she said, not missing a beat. “Lord, help this family’s time management.”
“Come on, Ma,” Rich laughed. “We early compared to last time.”
“That’s because I drove,” Southside said, jingling his keys. “If y’all rode with Seth, we’d still be in the house eating breakfast.”
“Why everybody playin’ me today?” I asked, but everyone just kept walking.
Stormi looked up at me, giggling under her breath. “’Cause they love you.”
“Nah, they love clownin’ me,” I said, grabbing the diaper bag off her shoulder. “Give me this before you pull something.”
She didn’t fight me on it. She was too busy fixing Shiloh’s curls and wiping drool off his chin like the world was ending.
“Baby, he’s going to church, not the Met Gala,” I teased.
Stormi glared. “Seth, this his christening. He gotta look perfect.”
Rich held Shiloh up again. “He looks like a real nigga with his fat ass.”
Stormi swatted Rich’s hand. “Stop callin’ my baby fat.”
“He is fat,” I said. “Won’t stay off them titties.”
S3 sprinted between us, screaming, “WINDOW SEAT” before he jumped into the SUV like it was a playground.
“See?” I pointed. “Your kids act just like you.”
“Excuse me?” Stormi lifted her chin.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Beautiful, dramatic, and everything gotta be done your way.”
She tried to hold her serious face, but her smile broke through. “Shut up and open my door,” she said softly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I pulled the car door open for her, helping her inside. Before she climbed in, she tugged me down by my tie and whispered, “Thank you for today. I know I get intense.”
