Don't Pester The Ski Patrol • L.S.

14

Harry sleeps on me for an hour and a half.

I'm sure that doesn't sound like an awful amount of time, but pretend you're me, staying so still it almost hurts, staring blankly at a wall and trying to keep entertained. I didn't want to risk waking him up by reaching for my cellphone in my pocket, and I wasn't going to turn on a television with two sleeping humans in one house. So, I sat perfectly still, ignoring the cramps I got in my thighs as Harry snored peacefully, still dressed in his jacket and snow boots.

I know I'm mad at him, but I still care about him. He clearly hates himself for what's transpired. I definitely don't plan to let him off easy when he wakes up, but at least I can comfort him while he finds a moment of peace. As much as I admire the way he's done this completely on his own, the way he reacted to what happened today just solidifies the truth - he's a baby who had a baby.

And I don't want to infantilise him at all; Harry is a grown adult with a full-time job and a child to care for. But he was desperate for me to understand that he wasn't ready, and while I think he's doing a good job, it's clear he needed to grow up a lot more than he could before having kids.

At the same time, I'm not entirely sure how someone can exactly prepare properly for parenthood. It's a common saying that you're never truly prepared for this sort of thing. I think back to that picture of young Harry on his Instagram, and can't fathom that that was the Harry that became a dad. That young, naive party boy who was on so many drugs he couldn't see straight.

Well; what's done is done. And neither of us would trade Prairie for anything. I'm sure he'd carol it as a blessing in disguise.

(I'm sure he'd carol a lot of things as 'in disguise.' )

He eventually wakes up with a startle, preciously opening his big, green eyes like he was a doe that's just been born.

"I fell asleep?" He asks groggily, and doesn't give me the chance to respond as he asks his next question, "Where's Prairie?"

"She's napping." I say shortly.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour and a half, according to the clock on your wall."

He sits up at this. "She shouldn't nap that long. I'm going to go wake her up."

"Not so fast," I halt him, because waking up Prairie means he doesn't have to talk to me. "Let's talk about what happened today."

He looks defeated, and then throws his face in his hands dramatically. "You must think I'm an awful father."

"I don't." I say simply, in contrast to my usual rambling of how much I admire his parenting. "Tell me what happened."

"It's..." he trails off, and then as he speaks, he keeps interrupting himself with a new thought. "It's impossible to grocery shop with Prairie because she hates sitting in the cart, but then runs around the whole store when I let her walk. I've been putting off shopping for weeks because of it. I figured if I just ran out while she was asleep, it'd be best for her. I was gone for twenty minutes, Louis. She usually never wakes up. I was so sure she was asleep."

He takes his face out of his hands and looks to his feet in shame. "I know, I know that wasn't a good idea. I was just at my wit's end."

I sigh. "Well, I don't agree with you leaving a child by herself, but you were keeping her conditions in mind. That doesn't make you a bad father. You made a mistake, but nobody got hurt and Prairie is okay."

It's like I've said nothing to the self-hating fool before me. "How did I not know she was awake? God, Liam was right. I'm not cut out for this."

"Oh, c'mon, Harry. All first time parents make mistakes. This is one bad in a sea of greatness."