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The kettle was boiled, the tea bags in two cups, and a sippy cup of warm milk on the side. George was in the living room with our daughter while I prepared the drinks, though now I was staring at the empty bottle of milk in my hand and how there was definitely none in there for our tea.
When I rounded into the living room, my eyes landed on George, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor helping Ellie stack those coloured plastic cups in size order. I hated to disrupt, but apparently, run-out milk didn’t care about me.
“Georgie, we’re out of milk,” I said lowly, not wanting to be too obnoxiously loud.
George turned and furrowed his brows at me. “Not enough for tea?”
“Unfortunately not. I have Ellie's milk in the kitchen though. But I can quickly nip to the shop to get some,” I offered, leaning against the doorframe and waving the empty bottle a little. George narrowed his eyes.
“You’re going… to get milk?” he said slowly, one of his eyebrows raising, though Ellie had taken a part of his attention by attaching her mouth to his leg and biting the sweatpant material. He carefully lifted her off and sat her in his lap, hands gentle around her waist.
“Yes. We’ll need some for breakfast tomorrow as well so I might as well go now,” I shrugged innocently. George now had one of his fingers being guided into Ellie’s mouth with two hands.
“Dream,” George was smiling amusedly. “You’re not going to leave us, are you?”
I squinted in confusion. “Wha- of course not? Where would you get that idea from?” I sputtered, scooting over to them and kneeling next to him. I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheek repeatedly until he let his laughter free.
“I was kidding. Have you never heard of the ‘going to get milk’ phenomenon?” he managed, leaning his face into my shoulder to steady him.
“No… why? Does it somehow relate to me leaving the love of my life and daughter?” I asked quietly, one hand softly holding George’s slightly stubbly jaw and stroking the apple of his cheek with my thumb.
George giggled sweetly as he leaned into my hand and looked at me with his rich umber eyes, glowing with warmth. I gave his lips a quick kiss which we both smiled into.
“Kind of. But you’re not going to, right?” he mused, pouting dramatically while I scoffed. “But before you go can you get Ellie’s milk because it’s getting late so I’d rather have her drink it now so she can go to bed after?” With that, he gave her soft blonde hair a stroke for emphasis.
“Of course, honey,” I whispered, kissing his forehead now because I could before standing up and crunching the grey carpet under my socked feet on my way to the kitchen.
I took the milk, frowning a little at the kettle that would be too lukewarm to pour tea from by the time I returned so I would have to re-boil it.
The kitchen was quite small: one window with blinds, black countertops with white specks like freckles and painted white cupboards. We had an electric oven, but that was because I was a little paranoid that a gas one would set fire to the house. It wasn’t big enough for an island or anything in there, but we didn’t really need one and it was cosier like that. Especially now, when it was dark outside in the middle of winter and the room was lit with the warm glow of an energy-saving lightbulb.
I padded back to the living room, where George, with Ellie, had moved to the couch and he was holding the remote up to the tv, flicking it on. What a surprise, it was already on the kids’ channel.
“Oh, hi, there. Haven’t deserted us yet, I see,” George grinned so I rolled my eyes while I sat down on the squishy seat beside him.
“Yeah, very funny. Here’s her milk, it’s warm too,” I said, nudging it into his fingers while sighing. “Don’t worry, I’ll be, like, fifteen minutes,” nuzzling his cheek a little with my nose.
“Ok, thank you, Dreamie,” George cooed, leaning up to kiss me again which I absolutely fucking ate up.
“Mmm, you’re amazing, I could never leave you,” I said in a murmur, leaving him to blush while I bent down to address Ellie. “Hi, sweetie. Daddy’s just going to pop out for a little bit but I’ll be back to tuck you in,” I whispered, pecking her tiny cheek and she smiled even smaller at me. I wasn’t sure how much she understood other than my tone and my voice, but it made her happy anyway. “I love you,” another peck, then I moved back up to George, “and I love you.”
“You’re a moron. Go get the milk and hurry up about it,” George said fondly but made sure to add, “Love you too,” on the end as I shrugged incredulously at him.
“Will do,” I replied, huffing as I got up yet again and shuffled off to my shoes that were by the front door. Just simple sneakers that I toed on while I grabbed my khaki green duffle coat also, patting my trousers over for the telltale lump of my wallet and phone that I found I already had on me. Ah, and my keys, mustn’t forget that one.
“Bye,” I made sure to call as I opened the door to the bitter blast of cool, dark air that I kind of just wanted to shy away from. George echoed me and I took that as my cue to step outside.
-
It took double the amount of time I thought it would to buy the stupid milk.
First of all, there was a spillage down the very aisle of the corner shop that I needed to get it but had to wait for someone to clean it first. Then the queue of people was long. Why were so many people there when I happened to be there? All needing milk and bread and apparently a chocolate binge? I got that. But lastly, there was one cashier and he kept messing up and had to start scanning a few customers’ items all over again. I was fairly certain he was on a lot of caffeine and not much sleep. Perhaps a student, he seemed young enough to be.
But eventually, I had acquired milk and I was so ready to go home and make tea to drink next to my husband either in bed or on the couch.
When I finally shut the front door behind me and my glasses steamed up (yes, I wore glasses, get over it) the inviting warmth of home eveloped me so I slid out of my shoes and jacket and moved to the kitchen to quickly put the two bottles I’d gotten away in the fridge. I could still hear the sound of cartoons coming from the other room and I flicked on the kettle again before going back in there to say hello, since it seemed I wasn’t heard.
I found out pretty soon why I hadn’t been heard and it was adorable. George was now lying across the couch, sound asleep, with Ellie curled up on his front, also asleep and sucking her thumb softly. George had one arm over her, the entirety of her body fitting under his forearm and hand as she slowly rose and fell with each breath. His other hand dangled off the side, the empty sippy cup next to it on the floor, evident where he’d dropped it in his sleep.
I would rather not have intervened, but I had to put them both in bed somehow. And change Ellie’s nappy, my all-time favourite evening activity.
I started by switching off the television and the static silence that came over the room was almost shudderingly loud. Then, I picked up the sippy cup and disposed of it in the sink to deal with tomorrow, even though I probably could’ve just rinsed it now.
Tiptoeing back to the living room, they hadn’t changed position. I debated whether or not I should wake up George and disrupt how peaceful he seemed with Ellie. I thought it best to wake him since I did not feel like brushing a grown man’s teeth.
“Georgie,” I whispered, kneeling next to his face and nibbling kisses into the side of it not squished by cushions. “Baby, I need to put Ellie in bed.” I had the back of one finger trailing over the bridge of his nose until he scrunched it up.
“You came back. Good,” he mumbled, words slurred as if he were drunk. Thirty minutes got him that far into sleep. I chuckled a little as his free hand felt around for me, though I was so close it didn’t take long, even with his eyes closed.
“Of course I’m back, silly,” I said through a smile as I pecked his nose until his eyes drew open like curtains in the morning. “And I got milk, though you don’t particularly look in the mood for tea after all,” I said, brushing my fingers through melted chocolate that you call hair that fell about his face so gracefully.
“Pro’ly not,” he smiled, stroking over Ellie’s back with one hand and gripping my forearm with the other.
I was returning the smile as I attempted to pry Ellie away from George’s delicate fingers but he urgently (also sluggishly) wrapped both of his arms around.
“Noooo, can’t steal her from me,” he whined quietly, tucking her soft wisps of hair under his chin, freeing the squished cheek that was rather red by this point.
“Ok, you can do her nappy. That’s fine with me,” I said, shrugging as George frowned at me, actually pouting.
“Fine. Take her,” he said dramatically, loosening his arms so I could collect the little scoop of ice cream that was our daughter into my arms. She was still sucking on her thumb though her tiny fist was curled on my neck and her face on my shoulder. Against me, she seemed even smaller than she did on George. “Aw,” he cooed.
I just rolled my eyes at him and delivered the parcel, wrapped in a baby onesie, to her bedroom. We were lucky in that Ellie was a deep sleeper. I mean, George and I never really let her have naps during the day because we’d found out the hard way that we did not like being woken by a screaming baby. It still happened from time to time, but we were good at keeping her awake long enough to avoid it.
That nappy was an explosion. And that’s putting it lightly. I almost swore very loudly at both the sight and smell before me. I worked quickly, at one point wondering whether it might be better to run a whole bath instead, but decided against it since I could do a pretty good job of cleaning with a wipe. Plus, if needed, the bath could be done tomorrow when I did not need to wake her up.
Once it was all done, I scrubbed my hands.
I then bundled her back up into a clean baby grow that had little coverings for her hands so she wouldn’t accidentally scratch herself during sleep. Everything was so soft, even the little fern green hood with frog eyes that I’d chosen. Since she couldn’t have her thumb anymore, I replaced it with a dummy and internally awed at the way it bobbed as she suckled on it.
Back in her crib, I pulled the blankets up and over her gently before leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Night, night,” I whispered before stumbling out of the room and back to George.
“That was fucking disgusting,” I groaned when I got there, only to find George fast asleep again. I frowned, but I couldn’t blame him. The past week had been heavy with work and late nights and a baby to take care of, for both of us.
I sighed, picking him up as well, with ease, though much heavier, and carrying him upstairs to our bedroom. George still had an ounce of consciousness since he tucked his head under my chin, tickling me with his hair to no end, but made no effort to hold onto me. The trust was astounding.
His breath fanned against my neck and I would’ve had one hand petting his hair if I didn’t need them both for lugging him to bed. When we got there, I was careful as I set him down and arranged him on his side of the bed.
As I started to peel off his sweatpants, he grumbled something and turned over, attempting to find me with his hands and patted my thigh when he did. I tutted under my breath as I took them off all the way and chucked them across the room to land in the laundry basket.
“‘M not in the mood,” George slurred and I shook my head fondly at his sprawled out body.
“Sleeping beauty’s awake, huh?” I said, rubbing over his back and kissing his cheek until he smiled weakly. “I’m just changing you, nothing to worry about.”
“I know. I was mucking,” he giggled to himself, burying his face into the pillow sleepily. I rolled my eyes, flicking on our lamp so I could actually see now that he was kind of awake. “I don’t need to change, I’ll just sleep in my shirt.”
“Oh, no, you won’t. It’ll go all fuzzy and then you’ll complain about it being fuzzy,” I replied as I slipped said shirt over his head, launching that also, then doing the same with the boxers, George barely acknowledging it.
“Well done, idiot. Now I’m cold,” he grumbled, though it was muffled by the pillow. I frowned and ruffled his hair before I got up to get him some pyjamas. “ Ow .”
“His majesty is rather grumpy today, isn’t he?” I said after I dug them out of the drawer and perched myself next to George again.
His alabaster skin rose and fell gradually with each drawn-out breath, the dusting of freckles visible in the diffused golden lamplight. I couldn’t help but admire him with a smile before pressing a kiss into the back of his neck.
“Nope, just cold. But your kisses do help so if you want to keep doing that, I have no objection,” George answered eventually and I laughed as unfolded his pyjama bottoms.
“When you put it like that… I might have to give in to your needy ass,” I chuckled, tugging the bottoms up his legs and over his needy ass, making sure to give it a light smack.
“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” he said, getting up to crawl slowly over to me, dropping his face into my lap, hugging around my waist. My hand weaved through his hair and twirled it around between my fingers as I sat down properly.
“Don’t fall asleep again. You need to do your teeth or I’ll have to wake you up later when I go to bed to do them. Or piss the bed. I would rather not have to deal with more human waste than I already have tonight,” I said, tapping his back as he groaned.
“Wait, aren’t you sleeping now?” George looked up at me with furrowed brows of confusion and pursed lips like a duck. I smirked and kissed him, cupping both of his cheeks, though he just blinked expectantly.
“George. It’s seven o’clock. You’re just abnormally exhausted,” I told him, my eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh .”
“Well,” he started, clearly trying to pull together words in his mind. “Could you stay with me anyway?”
My face melted into a soft smile. “Of course. I am going to go make that tea for myself and then I’ll be right back to read or something.”
“Ok. I suppose I’ll use the bathroom now then,” he sighed, squeezing me a little before he finally rose and tottered in a broken up line to the bathroom, still shirtless. I shook my head to myself with still a smile bore on it.
-
All I had to do now was wait. Not get distracted and wait for the water to boil for hopefully the last time this evening.
Surprisingly, I managed it. I zoned out while staring dreamily into the bubbling water and was suddenly brought back to the room by an astonishingly loud plastic flick of the kettle turning off.
But, I did it. And so I used the water, finally pouring out a cup of tea and habitually prodding the tea bag with my spoon because I was sure it got more flavour out, even though George had warned me that it might rip the bag and all of the tea leaves would spill out.
I drained the teabag, cast the splash of milk I’d gone out for into it and sighed and I stirred it to the perfect tone of brown.
George had put on his t-shirt and was lying under the covers when I arrived back to our bedroom, the light still on. I set my tea down on the bedside table that also held my book before climbing in next to him.
He must’ve sensed the dip in the mattress because George crawled over and flopped onto me, digging his face into my tummy and hugging me.
“Mmm,” he hummed, nuzzling in closer when I draped an arm over him. “I never wanna lose you. I love you.” I was fairly certain I was blushing. Even now.
“Neither do I. I love you too, Georgie,” I said, laying a kiss into his hair before I reached over and grabbed my book. “I love you too.”