Okay, last night I learned a very important lesson. DO NOT watch Bewitched while working on fan fiction at midnight. Random, but true. I had a very disturbing dream. Like, more disturbing than when Ringo was asked who in the room he'd make out with in Truth or Dare With The Beatles... *shudders* anyway, back to the story!
From the second Linda woke up, Paul wouldn't let her lift a finger.
"Paul, I can-"
"I know you can, but I don't want you to push yourself too hard or anything."
"Paul, I've had a baby before. It's only been a little while and you're spoiling me!"
"I know that, but still. I made you breakfast, too."
Heather walked in, holding a large, silver tray with Martha trailing behind her, just aniticipating even a small bit of food to fall.
"I made all your favorites! And..." Paul revealed a jar of pickles and set it on the tray.
"Paul, you just outdid yourself!" Linda gasped.
"I only want the best for you, Lin."
"I already have do have the best. I have you."
......
Linda was finally out of bed and tried to keep busy by making some food, hopefully without Paul catching her.
"Lin! What're you doing?"
"I was making dinner..."
"I don't want you to overwork yourself!" Paul said, setting her down in a chair.
"Paul, I made dinner plenty of times before Heather was born and look at her!"
All of a sudden, Heather ran past, covered in mud, chasing Martha. "See my point?" Linda teased.
"Okay, maybe you're right. But at least let me make this one, just this one..."
"Well, okay..."
Paul stared into the boiling water blankly.
"Maybe if you put the spaghetti in the boiling water..." Linda jokingly hinted.
"Oh, uh, yeah. I totally knew that..."
Sorry for the short chapter! I'm gonna be kind of innactive for the week, but I have to post one more chapter for tomorrow and then this story's sadly over! I seriously meant to make it longer, but I basically screwed everything up somehow... anyway, I'm gonna try and sleep!
