No. 1
“Run Yoongie, run!” Yul yelled, holding onto his son’s hand; running towards the kitchen. “Umma is coming after me!”
“Why Appa, why, why?” three-year-old Yoong, who ran after his father, asked. “Why is Umma chasing you?”
Yul didn’t answer his son’s question; instead he lifted his son up and hid themselves in the bathroom, realizing the kitchen would be a place too obvious to hide in.
Father and son were breathing heavily. Nervousness was clear in Yul’s eyes when they heard Jessica passing by calling out for the both of them. Well, not the two of them; actually she was just looking for the
father to her son.
“Kwon Yul once I find you I swear…,” That was the only thing little Yoong heard, for his father had protected his innocent mind from getting corrupted by the colourful array of words Jessica was verbalizing.
Jessica was waiting for Yul in their master bedroom. Yul was supposed to put little Yoong to sleep in his room. After all, it was past his bedtime.
“YOONGIE! COME HERE AND WEAR YOUR SHIRT!” She could hear Yul’s husky voice from their son’s room. Jessica Jung’s eyelids were already heavy… until little Yoong decided to run into the master bedroom
with only his pants on.
“NO APPA! I SHALL NOT WEAR MY SHIRT!”
Jessica was a little annoyed. Yoong’s high-pitched voice was really high-pitched.
Okay, maybe not a little annoyed. She hadn’t any sleep the whole day attending to the little boy and God knows how much she loves to sleep.
“Umma, umma!” Yoong shouted, treating Jessica and Yul’s king-sized bed as an oversized trampoline. “Umma, Appa is making me wear my shirt!”
Jessica turned around and shushed her son and pulled him down to lie beside her. She got up and went up to her husband who was across the hallway. “Kwon Yul, come here…,” she said coldly and stopped
him when he was a few feet from her.
“Sica baby I swear—” Yul was cut off harshly when Jessica tugged harshly on Yoong’s shirt that he was holding.
“Kids will always be kids…,” The blonde woman muttered under her breath and put on Yoong’s clothes for him.
“Thank you Umma,” the three-year-old flashed a bright smile that he inherited from her. He then looked at his father and winked, making the ‘okay’ sign.
Yul winked back to his little boy.
“Umma can I sleep here tonight?”
