Work Text:
Vomit ingrained in my uniform. Toys strewn over the floor. Hoshi almost broke her neck on the dumper truck yesterday. It's much bigger than Charlie.
I knew fatherhood - with Trip around and Tucker genes in the offspring - would be like this.
Bloody bedlam.
My house is full of gawpers. Mother's insisting on coming to stay. Equally ominous - so's Mrs Tucker.
I may emigrate.
My son gurgles.
My husband beams.
They're both so unspeakably beautiful I want to cry whenever I look at them. I can't believe they're real.
I can tolerate the chaos; ditto the sleepless nights.
Because they're mine.
