Sorry for the gap between delays with these. I had a bout of extreme laziness and then an even more severe bout of Star Trek on the brain . . . yes, be very afraid.
To make up for the time off, I have a mushy make-ya-smile inside update. It was almost painful to write. ;)
'I don't do domestic.'
The old line hums through his new mind at the oddest of times. He had tried to use it initially – as a way to get out of socially challenging situations, and as a way to avoid other things . . . Rose had raised a brow, and quite calmly said, "Really? You're a good deal human now, so you better get right used to this sort of thing."
The domestically challenged excuse hadn't worked well on other things, either. And now he finds himself enjoying the nuisances of human life. He doesn't mind the band on his finger – and he certainly enjoys the one on hers. The in-laws aren't that bad. Motherhood and time had mellowed Jackie, and Pete was an amiable fellow. In secret places of his mind that only he acknowledged, he knows that he enjoys the family dinners, the grocery shopping, and picking up the dry cleaning.
It felt right.
But this . . . .
This was pushing it.
Using the domestic excuse to his wife had been a mistake. Rose's eyes had twinkled, and before he knew it, he was on diaper duty for the rest of the week.
His daughter was cooing from her spot on the changing table, and even that already sounded like she was laughing at him. A trait that she no doubt inherited from her mother. With one hand plugging his nose, and the other hand getting the job over as quickly as he could, he glared at the baby, "This is all your fault, you know?" he told her severely.
The child giggled some more, and in spite of himself, he started to smile.