Baby Mendes//S.M.

Chapter Three - Great. She just threw up on me.

Shawn looks so pissed in this picture, he is growling. What crawled up his butt? Lmao! Sorry. IM DONE.                 

Melony's POV                                                                                                                    ---------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning on the couch, sleeping with my head in Shawn's lap. I sit up, yawning and stretching, seeing him do the same. I look at my phone that I kept in my pocket, and it was already one in the afternoon. We actually slept. And the girls didn't wake. 

How nice.

Once Shawn got up, I got up too, walking into the kitchen, beginning to make some breakfast. I feel Shawn's arms slip around my waist, as he sighs, laying his head on my shoulder.

"Good morning baby boy," I say, and he yawns again.

"Good morning." He replies, sounding groggy like his throat was sore.

I got finished cooking the eggs, and the biscuits, and I set them on the table.

"Thanks for making breakfast, babe." He says, his voice still sounding groggy.

"Baby, are you feeling okay?" I ask, and he nods. "Shawn, come here," I say, and he walks towards me.

His eyes held purple bags under them, and his eyes looked red. His cheeks were rosy, and his voice didn't sound all to good.

"I'm fine, Mel. I'm not sick." He says sounding raspy, and I chuckle.

"That's exactly what a sick person with a terrible throat would say," I say, and he gives a fake smile.

I hold the back of my hand to his forehead, feeling it. It was burning up.

"Baby, you have a fever," I say, and he frowns.

"No I don't, I'm fine." He says, turning around before letting out a deep cough.

"Shawn, you're sick," I say and he sighs, before yawning, and I smile.

He wraps his arms around me, and he stuffs his face into the crook of my neck.

"You're right. I don't feel good." He says, and I smile, knowing I was right.

"I'm going to check your throat," I said, finding a small flashlight.

I tell him to open his mouth and look up. I grab a stool so I can see better, and I peer down, shining the flashlight. He had strep.

"You need to rest," I say, and he sneezes in the other direction. "And probably not talk, either. Your throat looks horrible." I add, and he sighs.

He knew I was always right, but he didn't argue. He didn't talk much either like I told him. He eats breakfast, and we go upstairs. Shawn lays down on the bed, looking tired still, and I hear a small cough come from the girls' room along with another one.

Oh no.

I walk into the room, to see them coughing, and then they started crying. They are sick too. How am I supposed to do this?

I pick up Alice, and I hold her. I was still in my long-sleeve T-shirt and shorts, but I didn't have anywhere to go today. She stops crying, and I'm surprised. I softly pat her back, and She burps softly. After cradling her back and forth, I hold her up, so she lays her head on my shoulder. I feel something liquid go down my back, as she coughs.

Great. She just threw up on me.

"Aw, Alice," I say to her, and I grab her baby bib, and wipe off her mouth.