Calum:
"Dad dad dad dad dad dad." Your daughter chants running into the bedroom. You look up from your book but let Calum reach down and scoop her up off the hardwood floor and into your king bed. She immediately plops in his lap, digging her head of dark hair into his side, batting her equally dark lashes as she looks up through them at Calum. "What's up, buttercup?" He asks, letting her snuggle into his side. You know she's about to ask for something, and with the way she's cuddling up to Cal you're pretty sure he'll get her whatever she asks for. "Can we get a puppy?" She asks, widening her brown eyes, "Please?" You sigh internally, already seeing the resolve in your husband starting to crumble at her wide eyes and pout. If it were up to solely you, you would shoot down the idea almost immediately. Raising the little monster of a child was hard enough, let alone throwing a puppy into the mix. You give Calum a look, warning him that you wouldn't be pleased if he gave into her again. Just last week he bought her a new bike for no reason at all other than she wanted one. "Daddy." She sing-songs, kissing his cheek. "I love you." He bites his lip, and you groan as he smiles down at her, knowing you lost once again. "Sure baby, we can go pick one out later this week." She squeals and kisses him again before bounding off the bed and back into the living room. "You're not getting laid for the next few weeks, mister dad of the year." You scowl, trying not to crack a smile as he groans and face plants into the pillows.
Michael: "No, daddy, that's not the way mommy always does it." Your 6 year old scolds as he flips the hairbrush in his hands. He quirks an eyebrow at her, as if asking what in the hell he was doing wrong. You went out with your friends for the day, as Michael had assured he could hold down the fort for the day. Your daughter just shakes her head and reaches for a blue hair tie before placing it in her dad's large hand. She acts more and more like Michael everyday and you know it's only a matter of time before she starts pulling on Luke's daughter's hair all the while slinging an arm around her shoulder and calling her her best friend. Michael takes a seat on the living room floor, letting her come and sit between his thighs so he can brush out her long hair. She continues whining as he tries and pull it all up into a pony tail, constantly complaining about him tugging too hard, or him not putting it in the right spot. Eventually, your little girl accepts that her daddy isn't skilled in the art of putting in ponytails and stops him, crawling into Michael's lap after he puts the brush away. "You should just stick to doing daddy things. Like killing spiders and making me cheese toasties." She says planting a wet kiss on his cheek. "Because you're pretty bad at doing mommy things".
