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“Give it back now!”
The two fathers gave each other twin looks, sighing. Adam’s face turned into a frown as he watched their sons grapple back and forth with a toy truck.
“I got it,” he said, moving to sit beside both boys on the floor. Both kids stopped bickering for a moment while he sat down. He gave them both a face of disapproval.
“Are we having trouble sharing?” He asked, knowing very well the answer was a resounding “yes”.
“I’m not having trouble, it’s Sammy who can’t share.” Noah said, managing a face that only a five year old could make. Both boys, as a result of growing up in Henrietta, had developed what could only be described as the cutest accents known to man. The southern tang just sounded adorable coming from their babyish voices.
“I not having trouble!” Sam retorted. A firm pout had taken over his face. Adam sighed again, both because it was a force of habit and because of the redundancy of the situation. With Sam just heading off to preschool, he had grown a tendency to claim toys that didn’t really belong to him. They had decided that it was probably normal, and that a few more weeks would knock it out of him. It didn’t make it any easier for them to handle it in the moment.
“Well, my loves, we need to share the truck. Do you guys want Daddy to start a timer and help find another toy?” He kept his voice light and his face friendly, making sure the boys knew that they weren’t being punished. With both boys coming from rough places, their dads had worked hard to make sure their kids didn’t feel uneasy around them.
Noah seemed fine with this conclusion–he had already learned how to tolerate turn taking in school, but Sam still seemed upset.
“OK. Let’s start a timer for ten minutes, then we can look for something else fun to play with.” Despite getting quite literally all he had wanted, Sam’s bottom lip was still jutted out.
“No! You play with me!” He hollered, somehow filled with rage. Adam’s frown returned.
“You can still play with us, Sammy. But we have to play with the truck together with brother. Is that what you want?” In all honesty, he was a little confused. His youngest wasn’t particularly prone to tantrums; that was his brother’s department.
“No!” Sam accompanied this word with the slam of his fist on the ground, “It’s mine!” With this, Adam was really stumped.
“Alright, my friend. I don’t think right now is a good time to play for you. Why don’t we cuddle?” Adam, by nature of being an only child, had a tendency to focus on one kid at a time. It wasn’t due to favoritism, but an unfortunate one track mind. Luckily, Ronan had plenty of experience with siblinghood, and could easily pick up the pieces.
“I’ll take him, babe. You go play with Noah.” he said, moving the still screaming toddler into his lap. Realizing his mistake, Adam ruffled Noah’s hair.
“I’m sorry, buddy. Let’s go grab something fun, yeah?” Noah smiled at this, taking his father’s hand and leading him away.
As the boys walked away, Ronan zeroed in on his tantruming three year old. He turned the kid so that they were facing each other, being careful of the truck that the baby was still clutching.
“Sammy, I know you’re angry, but we need to stop yelling or we’ll get sick.” He was firm in this command, and just his tone was enough to change the yelling into raw sobs.
The sudden change was enough to break Ronan’s heart a little. He knew at this point that the tears and theatrics were definitely not just about the truck, but it hurt to hear his little guy sound so hurt.
He let the boy sob into his shirt for a little before realizing it was probably not easy to play when there was someone scream-crying in the room next to you. Feeling considerate, he left the house to roam around the Barns with the baby, hoping the outside air would help to calm him down.
The change of scenery did wonders on the kid, who eventually became quiet as he looked around at the rolling fields and bumbling animals. Ronan shifted him so that he wasn’t lying in his own snot. It was tough to juggle both the kid and the truck, but he was holding so tight to the toy that it was leaving indents in his soft skin, so they felt like a package deal.
Once it felt like Sam was at least half calm, Ronan sat down to talk. Sam shifted around uncomfortably, as if ashamed to talk about his outburst.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. He was careful to give as much time as needed for an answer, never wanting to crowd. Instead, he ran his hand up and down Sam’s back, squeezing his little shoulders soothingly. Sam frowned, the expression looking out of place on his baby-face.
“‘M ok.” He mumbled, playing with the grass next to them. That was clearly not fully true, but he’d take it over non-verbal screams.
“What do you think happened there, hmm?” He brushed the kid’s hair away from his face and wrapped the locks around his finger absentmindedly. Sam’s brow furrowed, as if it was tough to remember what was going on fifteen minutes ago.
“Was upset because,” he seemed to trail off, finishing his sentence by repeating his statement, “Was upset.” He put his head down on Ronan’s chest, releasing a sigh not unlike his Daddy. Ronan smiled at the parallel above the kid’s head before jumping back into the conversation.
“That was a ton of upset, Sammy. Do you know why you might’ve been feeling so worked up?” He didn’t force the kid to look at him, just choosing to massage his head gently. He could feel the toddler falling asleep on him.
“You tired? Did you sleep good last night?” And with that he could practically feel the guilt radiating off of the boy. He picked his head up, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact.
“‘M not tired.” he tried. Ronan sighed. The jig was clearly up by now, but that didn’t mean the kid couldn’t go out swinging. His son was still looking up at him, now fidgeting with the grass he had previously pulled. Ronan just sat there looking back, waiting to hear the truth. It didn’t take long.
“I have a little secret, Papa,” he confessed, “I gotted out of bed ‘nd played yesternight.” Ronan would’ve been endeared by the invented word if his kid didn’t look downright pitiful. His big eyes were already watering, and his lip was quivering. He couldn’t have looked more contrite if he tried.
“Thank you for telling me,” he wiped Sam’s face with the inside of his shirt, “you know that you’re supposed to try and sleep when bedtime comes. And when you can’t you come to me and Daddy, you don’t get up and take toys out. Do you understand?” It made Ronan feel like a villain lecturing the boy when he clearly felt horrible, but he needed this to not happen again.
The kid sniffled out an apology, diving into his chest for a hug. Once they had kissed and made up, Ronan kept talking.
“And you know we don’t keep secrets like that. Me and Daddy won’t ever be mad at you for telling us anything, you hear me? Nothing. Even if you break a rule, we’ll love you just the same. So no more secrets, Sammy.” With that, they went back inside to check in with their other halves. They found them in the living room, building a puzzle.
“We’re going to clean up a little and then I think Sammy has something to say to you two. And then I think someone has to go down for a little nap.” The last sentence made Adam confused, but Ronan flashed him a look that assured him that he knew what he was doing. Noah frowned at his father.
“I wish I shared the truck,” he said sadly, “Sammy looks really sad.” Adam patted his back reassuringly.
“I’m glad you want to share, but it’s not your fault Sammy got so upset, sweet boy. He’s a little cranky today. But that’s why it’s always good to share, since even cranky feelings get protected. Right?” The boy nodded, feeling better at the thought that he hadn’t completely set his brother off. Soon enough, Ronan and Sam returned, both looking significantly fresher than when they came in.
Sam, fighting valiantly to stay awake, gave a truly earnest apology, even though he became almost fully unintelligible towards the end. Afterwards, he was promptly taken to bed for a nap. He woke up in much better spirits. As their boys happily played together only a few hours after the original chaos, Ronan and Adam sighed happily.