Luke

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"Luke! Come here please." you called out to your husband. You were holding your son, while trying to make a bottle for him.

"What's up babe?" he asked walking into the kitchen.

"Can you please take him, I need to make him a bottle, and its hard to make it with him wiggling around." I laughed out.

"Of course! Come here you little wiggle bug." Luke cooed to our son, while taking him out of my arms. I mentally awed at the sight. Luke was holding him from under his arms high enough to meet his face. He was rubbing his nose against the baby's with his eyes closed and a small smile on his face. He planted a small kiss on his lips, then cradled him to his chest.

You looked away from two, and proceeded to make his bottle.

"Uh, babe?" Luke said.

"Yes?" you said, taking the bottle from the microwave.

"He wants his mother now." he said, holding him out to me.

"What? How do you know what he wants?" you said, spraying the bottle on your wrist to make sure it wasn't to hot or cold. He looked down to his diaper and scrunched his nose. You rolled your eyes, but grabbed the giggly baby from his arms.

The last time Luke had tried to change a poopy diaper, he somehow got it in his hair. Baby powder covered the rugs and our baby. In his words;

"He kept moving and turning on his tummy!"

Its still a mystery how he managed to get poo in our child's hair. Replaying his frantic face in your head, you started laughing.

"Hey, don't laugh at me!" Luke said pouting his bottom lip out. You walked over to him and kissed his lip.

"I'm sorry." you said. He smiled and leaned down to kiss your lips. A loud squeal broke you two apart.

"You want some to Buddy?" Luke said grabbing your son from your arms and kissing him all over his face. Giggles rang through out the kitchen. Luke then walked out of the room.

"Wait Luke! I need to change his diaper!" you said walking into the nursery.

"I got it!" you heard him call.

"Dear God help this boy." you said to yourself.

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Masquerade -Michael

Bad Girl -Luke

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