I sighed and tried not to laugh. The brutally honest phase of toddlerhood was not something I’d been prepared for.
Come to think of it, there was none of parenthood I’d been prepared for. If I had a time machine, I’d go back three years and slap past-me in the face for naively, and arrogantly, thinking being a parent was going to be easy. I’d been so spectacularly wrong on every single level, and while I loved Jack more than life itself, being a single dad was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
“Sorry, buddy, but I do.” I picked up the box of Cheerios with my other hand, realising it was now at least two-thirds empty. I’d need to remember to get some more when I next went shopping or there’d be hell to pay. Jack was still frowning, like he was mulling over my response. I was going to need to find some baby wipes before we left because there was no way I could take him to nursery with Nutella and Cheerios in his hair, not to mention all over the rest of him.
“Jack, where are your clothes?”
He did his best approximation of a shrug, shooting me an “I don’t know” expression that would rival most teenagers’. At least when he got to that age he might actually eat the Nutella with a spoon.
“Please tell me where your clothes are,” I said, putting the Nutella and Cheerios on a high shelf of a nearby bookcase. They weren’t totally out of reach but it was the easiest place to leave them while I figured out everything else.
I was going to be so fucking late to training it wasn’t even funny. Thank God our head coach, Clive, was understanding or I’d constantly be in deep shit. This couldn’t keep happening, though, not if I wanted to stay as team captain. The lads needed someone responsible to rely on, and although I’d tried to hide just how out of control things were at home, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d started to twig.
“I took them off,” Jack said, waving his hand in a grand gesture at himself and somehow leaving a smear of Nutella down his stomach.
“I can see,” I said as I moved towards the play castle, because I was ninety percent sure they’d be in there since it was Jack’s favourite hideout. “Why did you take them off?”
“So they won’t get dirty.” He spoke slowly, thinking through each of the words, and I smiled to myself because even if I was frustrated and ready to scream, I was proud of how well he was vocalising everything.
“That makes sense. But you know, next time you want some Nutella for breakfast, you can ask me and I’ll get you some, okay?”
“’Kay.”
I wasn’t sure he would, but it was a win, so I’d take it. And as I bent down to look in the castle, I got another because there were all Jack’s clothes in a pile, complete with his socks laid out on top like he hadn’t wanted to lose them. It was sweet, really, all things considered.
Now all I had to do was convince him to put them back on…
“Okay,” I said as I grabbed his clothes. “Come on, we need to get you cleaned up and then—”
Jack shrieked out a laugh as he saw me stand up, and without a backwards glance he shot off out of the playroom at full speed, his giggling bouncing off the walls as his tiny footsteps thundered on the polished wood floor of the hallway.
We were going to besofucking late.
Fifty minutes later, with Jack caught, hastily wiped down, dressed, and deposited at nursery, I finally arrived at the training ground for the Lincoln Knights Rugby Union Club. It was already half nine, so I knew everyone would be well into their session in the gym and I cringed thinking about what I’d already missed that morning. I’d be able to get the notes on theteam briefing and the overview of the week ahead, but as captain I should have been in the room to hear it firsthand.
After the last few nanny disasters, I’d kept telling myself I didn’t need any help, but I was starting to think my pride was going to lead to a very painful fall.
“Hey, you made it,” Bailey said as I slid into the gym. He and Hunter were partnered up and working at the squat rack nearest the door. Given how tall Hunter was, they weren’t the best matchup but they refused to be split up, so we rolled with it. As long as they got their workout done, it didn’t matter to me or any of the coaching staff. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, shooting him a half smile as I tried to pretend nothing was bothering me. “Just an incident with the Nutella.”
Bailey chuckled. “Same situation as the jam?”
“Not quite as bad. Thank God the playroom doesn’t have a cream carpet.”
“Cream carpets around kids are always a bad idea,” Hunter said as he racked the squat bar and shook his legs out.
“Cream anything around kids is a bad idea,” Bailey said with a grin. He looked me up and down, tilting his head slightly. “You look stressed.”
“Yeah, well, you try chasing a chocolate-covered toddler around when you’re running late and see how relaxed you are.” There was a sharp edge to my words that I heard as soon as they left my mouth, and I winced. “Sorry, I don’t mean to snap. I’m so fucking tired today.”
“Didn’t sleep well?” Hunter asked, changing the plates on the bar as he spoke.
“No. Jack came into my bed at three—he went straight back to sleep but then spent three and a half hours kicking the shit out of me.” My back twinged as if to make a point. I’d need to try and get a massage to get the knots worked out—it couldn’t hurt any more than how I’d gotten them—and then I needed to thinkof a better way to sleep that didn’t involve getting pummelled by tiny, unconscious toddler feet.
“Sounds rough,” Hunter said. “You need a break.”
“When’s Hannah back? She’s still in New York, right?” Bailey asked as he took a swig from his water bottle before he prepared to do his set. I really needed to get to my station instead of standing here gassing, but I was so tired it didn’t feel like a priority.
