I turn around, and the pain of a parent’s worst nightmare hits me; LEGOS. I hate it. I stumble forward, probably standing on every single piece the girls own before stumbling down to my knees. “Shit,” I groan, blowing my hair out of my face.
Before bothering to get up, I glance around my home, trying to work out just how bad this is going to be. I find Coby sitting on the ground with one of my mixing bowls between her legs, the largest one, of course. There’s a tipped over cereal box next to her, and she’s currently in the middle of pouring every last drop from the carton of milk, spilling it everywhere, though thankfully getting some in her bowl.
Ryan on the other hand is standing on the counter, trying to reach the higher cupboards. I have no doubt she’s after the pancake mixture, and I dread to think where she was going with that idea.
I can’t exactly get mad at them right now. I’ve been asleep, and I completely missed breakfast, but I’m really not feeling well enough to deal with this disaster just yet.
People wonder why I’ve nicknamed my children Monster and Hurricane, and this right here is exactly why.
The front door slams open, and Zoey comes though, scaring the absolute shit out of me. “Fuck, Zo. Are you kidding me?” I say with a hand on my chest, trying to steady the rapid beat of my heart.
I quickly glance at the clock, checking the time because she’s usually at work right about now. The witch breaks out in the biggest smile, and that alone makes me want to throw one of the girls’ barbies at her head.
“Oh, my God. This is too funny,” she laughs, leaning forward and holding her stomach as she takes it all in before pointing towards the kitchen, “But also not surprising.”
“Mmhmm. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I look to my best friend, mentally trying to ignore the chaos in the kitchen.
“I’m here because I received a call from Bull. Apparently, you’re on your deathbed, and I had to get over here to take care of the hellions, but you look okay to me,” she says, looking me up and down.
Hearing those words melts my heart. I have never had anyone who goes above and beyond to take care of me, which only has me falling even more in love with him. With everything going on in his life right now, Bull still makes the time to make sure I’m alright.
“He thinks I’m pregnant.”
“WHAT?”
“Shh,” I say, quickly glancing into the kitchen to make sure the girls aren’t listening. The last thing I need is for a little person to accidentally mention it to their father. All hell would break loose.
“Settle down. I’m not, thanks for your concern,” I say with a small smile. “I can’t be anyway. We’ve been completely safe, but I’m still feeling sick from your cooking the other night. It’s killing me. I think this has been the worst so far, Zo. You cannot be responsible for cooking ever again.”
A wave of nausea comes over me, and I prop myself against the wall. “You're turning very white,” Zoey comments. “Are you sure you’re okay? Nobody else is still sick.”
“I’m not sure,” I tell her, shaking my head as I place my hand on my stomach.
She steps back from me as though she could catch my food poisoning germs. “Could you be pregnant?”
I laugh off the preposterous question as I walk past her into the kitchen. “No, I’m sure. Your cooking sucks, that’s all.”
“Maybe you should take a test just in case,” she suggests, picking up a few of the barbie dolls and putting them away properly.
“Nah, it’s fine. It’s just food poisoning. But speaking of, I’m starving.”
Walking past the girls, I give them each a small kiss on the top of their heads before heading into the kitchen. I haven’t eaten anything today, so I know my shit mood is more to do with that than anything else.
I move to the cupboard and start looking for something that will satisfy my craving and realize I’m in desperate need of groceries. I get onto my tippy toes, trying to see if there’s anything hidden in the back that might fix this hunger.
Spotting a can of unopened pickled cucumbers, I nearly do a happy dance. Perfect. I jump up and down, trying to reach the bottle, and once I grab it, I throw the fridge door open and find the block of cheese. I wedge it under my arm as I move to grab the crackers, salivating at the contents laid out before me. Delicious. I haven’t had this in ages.
Grabbing a butter knife, I start layering on butter before cutting the cheese and picking out a few cucumbers. Though, I’m not going to lie, there were a few detours past my mouth before making it onto the cracker.