Jack was havinga bad day and nothing I did was making it any better.
He’d woken up in a terrible mood, had a screaming tantrum because his red shorts were in the washing machine after he’d covered them in ketchup and sausage grease yesterday afternoon while watching me play, and refused to eat any breakfast, and things had only gone downhill from there.
Objectively, I knew that he was a toddler struggling to emotionally regulate and deal with his compounded frustration and disappointment, but I was two minutes away from tearing my beard out and screaming. It didn’t help that I was exhausted from a week of hard training and yesterday’s brutal European match, so my own tolerance was so much lower than normal.
It was the first time since he’d arrived that I wished Harper was here, but it was his day off and he’d left early to go and see his sisters for his niece’s first birthday. I was already counting down the hours until he came back, and that startled me because I’d never expected to feel this way about a nanny.
But Harper wasn’t just Jack’s nanny anymore. He was… fuck it, I didn’t even know. Saying employee with benefits felt wrong on so many levels, but so did hookup, friend with benefits, and boyfriend. I had no fucking label for what we were doing and it was another thing that was irritating me.
“Daddy!” Jack screamed from the playroom where I’d left him for two minutes so I could breathe after dinner, which had been yet another battle. “Daddy! NOW!”
The chill that ran down my spine froze all my other emotions as I turned and strode towards him. He didn’t sound hurt, but he was screaming and crying, and I could hear something thumping against the floor. Had he fallen off the sofa? Had he hit his head on a bookcase or his craft table? What if he’d broken something? I’d never forgive myself if that was the case.
“Jack? What’s wrong?” I asked as I stepped through the door, my eyes scanning the room in front of me. Jack was lying on the floor, wailing and kicking his feet in despair, his giraffe on the floor next to him, a small puff of fluffy white stuffing poking out from the seam at the top of one of its legs.
That would do it.
“Okay, okay,” I said softly as I walked over to scoop up my sobbing toddler, who thrashed in my arms like a greased weasel. But I’d played rugby in the rain before and done training exercises with rugby balls dipped in soapy water, so I was good at holding on to something that didn’t want to be held.
I carried Jack over to the sofa and sat us down, cradling him in my arms while he cried into my shoulder, beating his tiny fists onto my chest. His frustration and upset was understandable, and it made my heart ache because there was nothing I could really do to soothe his pain. I had no idea how the toy had ripped, but my guess was he’d been playing with it too roughly and one of the seams had popped.
It should be a fairly simple fix if I could get hold of a needle and thread. I’d never really sewn anything in my life, but I was pretty sure there had to be a tutorial out there somewhere to help me. Unless Harper knew.
Please God, let Harper know how to sew. I wouldn’t even be jealous or grumpy of him having a skill I didn’t because at this point I was too exhausted and wrung out to care.
“It’s okay,” I said again as Jack’s breathing began to calm and his sobs turned into sniffles. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Jack shook his head but then a minute later said, “I pulled his leg.”
“Why did you pull his leg? Were you feeling very angry? Very sad?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said sadly. “I feel all growly.”
“Like you need to do a big roar?”
“Yeah.”
“You can do a big roar,” I said, helping him to sit up slightly and pulling him against my chest. “Will that help?”
“No sure.” Jack sniffed again. His face was red and his eyes were puffy, snot leaking out his nose. There was a box of tissues on the bookshelf, but I could get one in a minute. “’M sorry Daddy, I didn’t wanna hurt him.”
He began to cry again, burying his face in my T-shirt and wiping his nose across me as his fingers clutched the fabric tightly, and I winced as he caught some of my chest hair in his grip. That would serve me for wearing an old T-shirt that no longer fit me where I’d put more muscle on across my shoulders and chest.
“It’s okay. We can fix him. But next time you feel all growly, you have to remember to be gentle with him. Not just Giraffe but other friends and toys too. It’s okay to be angry and sad and feel all grumbly inside, but we shouldn’t be mean to others because we feel bad.” I kissed the top of his head. “I know it’s hard butyou have to try and use your words instead and say, ‘Daddy, I’m sad’ or ‘Daddy, I’m angry,’ okay? Then we can work out how to make you feel better.”
“’Kay,” Jack said again, nodding his head and rubbing his face across my chest. He yawned and I wondered if his bad mood had burned itself out. At least he’d sleep well tonight.
“Daddy,” Jack said after a few minutes, making me jump slightly because I thought he’d fallen asleep.
“Yes, pumpkin?”
“Can you fix Giraffe?”
“I can try, but it might take me a day or two,” I said, holding my breath and praying it didn’t set him off again because he wanted it fixed now.
“Oh.” I could hear the wobbly bottom lip and my chest ached again. While this probably counted as a valuable life lesson, I doubted Jackwanteda life lesson right now.
“I know, and it’s okay to be upset. But I need to find a needle and thread to sew him together, and we don’t have one, so I have to get one from the shops. Harper might, and we can ask him when he gets home, but if he doesn’t we can put a bandage on Giraffe to help him feel better. You just have to be very careful with him.”
