I appreciate that he doesn’t talk to her like a baby. I didn’t realize how many people babble in weirdly high-pitched tones when they speak to little kids until I had one of my own. Now it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.
Birdie immediately nods, bouncing up and down so her whole body is confirming that yes, she does in fact want to get her hands on those teeny tiny, precious and very breakable little people.
“I don’t know if that’s a great idea.” I think of the way she tried to shove her finger up my nose and the not so gentle way she chucks toys across the apartment. “Maybe we should?—”
“It’ll be okay.” Tucker tips his head toward the great room. “I bet with two of us in charge, we can keep things perfectly under control.”
I’m not sure the two of us should be in charge of anything. I’ve heard quite a lot about how Tucker lives his life, and I’m willing to admit my own choices haven’t been much better. We’re probably the last people anyone should rely on to keep things perfectly under control. But my daughter seems so excited, I find myself following Tucker intothe great room.
He lowers to the sofa, and Birdie quickly scrambles up right next to him, scooting as close as possibly to peer at Marybeth and Mitchell. I reach them just as one chubby hand raises, momentum building as it aims for Marybeth’s face.
Tucker whistles, the sound sharp enough to startle not only my daughter, but also me. His expression is stern but not angry as he shakes his head. “You have to be gentle.”
Birdie babbles something that sounds slightly like she’s repeating the word gentle. The movement of her hand slows, carefully coming to rest right across Marybeth’s nose and mouth.
I sit down next to her, doing my best not to bounce the couch too much. I don’t want to risk someone getting stabbed in the eyeball. Reaching out to shift the position of Birdie’s palm, I help her bring it to rest on the top of the baby’s head. “Not on the face.”
Birdie’s eyes come to me, and she seems to absorb what I say before turning back to softly pat Marybeth’s bald head. After a few careful touches, she repeats the process on Mitchell, eyes moving to Tucker like she’s checking for approval.
He nods, smiling. “Good job.”
Birdie grins, her whole face scrunching up with joy.
Then she jabs her finger up Tucker’s nose.
Unable to fend off the attack—because, babies—he ends up whipping his head back and away from the offending appendage as his eyes start to water.
“Bernadette Grace.” I catch her wrist before she can go in for a second poke, pulling it away as Tucker sneezes. “We have talked about this. You cannot stick your finger up other people’s noses.”
She bats her blue eyes at me, looking sweet and innocent, like I don’t know all her secrets. Her pointer aims at Mitchell. “Beebee’s nose?”
“No. Babies are people. You can’t stick your finger up their noses either.” I’m starting to worry she thinks there’s somethinginteresting up there. It’s the only explanation for her fascination with nostrils. “No fingers in noses.” I reconsider, deciding I probably need to elaborate. “Or anywhere else.”
Tucker’s eyes fix on my face, one brow angling as a smirk twists his lips. “Does that rule apply to everyone?”
Bradshaw Brothers Group Chat
Titus
Question for Tucker…
Walker
IS IT, WHY HAVEN’T YOU BEEN AT WORK?
Trevor
For real
Titus
Nope. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that.
Tucker
youre seriously going to bring this straight to the group chat
Tobias
