5SOS preferences

Parenting

Ashton:

“Hey bud, where’s your glasses?” You ask your twelve year old son from the stove as he walks down the stairs.

He got glasses on Saturday, and it’s now Monday.

 “I don’t want to wear them,” Leo responds, his face turning red.

“Why not?” Ashton asks from his spot at the table.

“I look nerdy in them.”

You’re about to respond, but then your eight year old daughter walks down the stairs, her fake glasses from Claire’s on her face.

“What’s with the glasses, Rosa?” Ashton asks.

“I want to be just like Leo,” she responds, walking forward to pull the orange juice container from the fridge.

A smile slips onto Leo’s face as he walks back up the stairs.

He returns with the black frames on his face, along with a smile.

Michael:

You walk into the living room, laughing at a joke Michael told you.

“Mom! Dad…”

“Mom and dad Wendy…”

“James is such a…”

“Bitchy ass…”

“Whoa, hey, shut up guys,” you yell over your children.

“You watch your language,” Michael points at your fifteen year old daughter, Candace.

“Go in a circle and complain about your lives,” you tell your four kids.

“I want to go to a party this weekend,” Alice, your seventeen year old, starts off.

“No. Next.”

“Wendy stole my favorite sweater and ripped it,” Candace glares at her younger sister.

“Wendy you owe your sister a new sweater. Next,” you demand.

“James broke my science project,” twelve year old Wendy tears up.

“Dammit James,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fuck. I guess we have to make a new one.”

“Wendy told me I fuck everything up,” James, the eleven year old, defends himself.

“You don’t, James. You just need to be careful,” Michael comforts him.

“Is that all?” You ask. “Everything is solved?”

All of the kids nod and walk off.

“And that is how you handle four kids,” you laugh to Michael before turning and snuggling into his chest.

Luke:

“Alright, baby, what flavor do you want?” Luke sets down three baby food jars in front of the four month old baby.

Her blue eyes sparkle and she squeals, thrusting her arms towards the potato baby food.

“Potato? Anything for you, Minnie,” Luke leans forward to kiss her temple.

You were on a business trip for work for two days, so he had to take care of Minnie by himself.

“Here comes the plane, Minnie,” Luke makes a plane noise before gently putting the spoon inside Minnie’s mouth.

He finishes feeding her, then takes her upstairs for a bath.

“Is this your ducky?” Luke holds up the pink rubber duck to her.

She giggles before pulling it out of his hand.

As soon as the bath finishes, he dresses her into an onsie and rocks her to sleep.

He stares at her sleeping figure from over her crib.

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispers to himself.

Calum:

“You’re not my parents,” Sophie hisses to her older brother.

He shrugs. “It’s part of being an older brother.”

“Mom said it was okay. She was there when I bought it,” the fourteen year old snaps.

“What are you two arguing about?” Calum walks into the living room, a muffin in his hand.

“Her shorts. They’re too short for my liking,” Toby motions to his little sister’s lower half.

“Toby it’s thirty five degrees (that’s Celsius, its 96 degrees Fahrenheit) out,” Sophie rolls her eyes.

“I can see your ass,” the seventeen year old points out.

“Toby, just let her go. You’ve brought home girlfriends she hasn’t liked before that she hasn’t liked,” you defend your daughter.

“Thank you, mum,” Sophie exclaims before walking out the door.

“She’s growing up too fast.” Toby shakes his head before walking away.

The answer was because freedom rings. Oh America.

What do you call a seagull flying over the bay?