daveed and emmy oneshots

something in the orange

Half asleep, Daveed pulled opened the refrigerator and immediately jumped back. The rotten stench took over the entirety of his nose as well as a 3 foot radius behind him. Rotten eggs, milk, and a variety of produce caught his eye as soon as he could get them open. He began to shift through the overcrowded compartments, multiple mysterious liquids already coating his hands as he went.

"Daveed, can you please close that?" Emmy called out from her space next to the high chair that held their 3 year old. Her eyes were closing as well and her arm was growing numb from the hour she had spent trying to spoon oatmeal into her daughters mouth. "C'mon Ella. You love oatmeal." She tried her best to muster up encouragement, but Ella wasn't having it and Emmy was over it.

Across the way, Daveed just wanted some breakfast. He was growing increasingly more frustrated with his inability to find the pre-made coffee, and his exhaustion made his grunts noticeable. All sorts of cups the kids had left in the fridge had spilled on his hand, and the smell was making him nauseous. Finally, he'd located the coffee bottle and a half carton of eggs. He stepped back and, immediately, a whoosh of wind knocked him off his feet.

"Green light," a tiny bit mighty voice called out, and suddenly, all of Daveed's eggs were on the ground.

Three kids darted past him at full speed, the last one on a razor scooter that knocked his ankle.

Daveed stood still in disbelief. His eyes rolled back in his head. "Fuck," he mumbled, looking down at the 6 eggs that were now spilling all over the hardwood.

"Daveed." Emmy said his name sternly, calling out his profanity. Giving up on the feeding, she lifted Ella from her chair and walked over. "Big three, grab your backpacks."

The big three were their three oldest kids though none of them were actually old. Nonetheless, the five year old and two four year olds grabbed their backpacks to get ready for school.

Before Emmy could get eggs all over her feet, Daveed moved to stand guard in front of the refrigerator. "What's going on with the refrigerator, Emmy?" he asked, putting the blame on her though he really just needed someone to blame.

"I can't do everything," she shrugged, setting Ella on the counter so she could pack quick lunches. Lunchables, go go squeeze, and a clementine. It was the most she could do without them being late for school.

Unsatisfied with her answer, Daveed persisted. "Have you tried? I mean, this milk has to be ages old." The inflection in his tone started to rise in the way that only showed when he was tired and annoyed.

"Daveed, please. Not today," Emmy huffed back, shaking her head. This morning had already given her enough stress and she didn't have the energy to fight over spoiled milk. She zipped the three lunch boxes and picked Ella back up, balancing all these things in her hands.

"Sorry, sorry," Daveed pulled back, "Didn't sleep at all."

"Neither did I," Emmy rebutted. She handed off the lunch bags to Christine, Riley, and Malcolm and hurried them off to the car.

Daveed slumped back on the counter upon hearing the door slam. Every morning had been like this for the past 3 years: the chaos, the fights, and the routine that still didn't work.

Too many kids came all too soon. The oldest, Christine, a product of two optimistic college kids. Marriage followed and so did a honeymoon baby, twins actually, one girl, one boy. That was Riley and Malcolm. The two busiest 4 year olds you ever did meet. Somehow, the optimism maintained and the once lovebirds thought they could handle it. The youngest came the year after, Ella. She was born premature and had struggled to catch up ever since. Over the years, parenting got harder and Daveed and Emmy's partnership struggled with it. Turns out there's not a lot of time to build a relationship when kids take up the first 3 years.