The Book Of Me & You

"Playin' With Fire, You Struck The Matches"

"Ow!" He yelped, pulling his arm back forcefully, puckering in his lip as he yelled from the kitchen, "Daddy - Em-ma jus bite me!" His eyes hardened at his sister, taking her tiny wrist in his hand, growling at her, "Say you sworry!"

She started to cry, which in turn made his father hang his head and sigh loudly, "John, leave her alone - eat your breakfast!"

Releasing his grip, he jumped off the chair he was sitting in, knocking over his half-finished bowl of cereal in the process, "No! I wanna see Mommy!" Stepping directly into the mess of milk droplets falling off the table, with his head cocked and lips pursed, John asked in a whiny voice, "Wh-en s-she jus c-omin o-ver my hwouse?" Ricky didn't answer, just kept rifling through the drawers in search of something. Emma let out an irritated and pitiful howl, grabbing at his arm again with her painful pinching fingers. "Owww!" He cried back at the unprovoked action, shoving her hand away as his breathing became rougher and his temper rose, "Sto-op it! You asshwole!"

"John!" Ricky boomed, slamming the drawer he was done looking through with a gruff sigh. He knew it was too early for him to get this aggravated, but not getting any sleep because he was confused about the situation with Amy, and having to be up with their screaming, teething infant, since the pleasurable hour of 2 a.m., didn't exactly make him Mr. Cheerful.

Looking over to them, he craned his head up to the ceiling, taking slow inhales through his nose to combat his rising frustration at the mess littered under his son's feet, while he just stood there knowingly. Going into the kitchen, he grabbed a half-full bottle off the counter, giving it to his daughter's outstretched hand, as he guided his son back to the chair he was previously seated in, with the other. Ricky's tone softened, letting go of John's hand and running his fingers through the buzzed hair by his ears, "I don't know when mommy is coming, buddy, please just sit and - " a knock at the door interrupted him. Checking the clock above the stove to see it was almost 8, he quickly bolted back to the living room, throwing open one of the last two remaining drawers of the bookshelf in a frenzy. The knocking continued, making him roll his eyes at who he knew was George, messing with him. Not even bothering to go over and see for himself, he just loudly shouted out, "Come in!"

With a hesitant turning of the knob, the old wood creaked, and it wasn't George who stood inside the frame.

His eyes widened at the person, a strange, nervousness washing over him, "Oh... hi..."

She giggled lightly, raising her brow playfully at his slightly rough appearance, "Hey. Rough morning?"

A small smirk crossed his lips, jerking his head as a signal to join him, "You could say that. Come in."

His feet pivoted a hare, lips parting to speak, just as a loud squeal bounced off the walls, and the tot came barreling into her legs, knocking Amy into him. "Mommyyyyyy!" The smile spanned John's entire face in joy at seeing her, looking up at him and declaring proudly, "Daddy! Daddy! Mommy is hwere!"

Ricky matched his smile before returning to the task at hand, "I see that, John."

Picking him up, Amy ran her fingers across the back of his head and kissed his cheek, "Yea, sorry, I was going to call... phone died and I can't find the charger... Is that a problem?" She asked with a tiny lilt of hesitation in her voice, watching him rifle through the drawers.

He shook his head nonchalantly, "No. It's fine." Roughly closing another drawer.

Her brow rose instinctively, knowing something was bothering him, "You okay?"

After a few seconds of tension-filled silence, he relented and shook his head, "Not really - You remember that preschool thing we went to a few months ago? The one where we filled out that packet of paperwork?" She nodded. "Well, they called this morning, reminding us that his registration meeting is today." He continued, throwing open the last drawer, "And of course, I can't find the freaking paperwork! And I have to call off work yet again because it'll just kill them to do it over the phone or when I get off!" His hands stilled, palms pressed against the wood, looking down and realizing how angry he sounded, "... Sorry. I didn't mean to unload on you. It's just been a rough-"