My Buddy Archie [1]

05..

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I'm twenty five. A year older. I should to lay here and reflect on how my life has changed in the past year, think about what I did right and what I fucked up, make goals for next year. But instead I went back to sleep because it was fucking three in the morning.

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"Niall?" I heard Archie whisper. "Niall, I cooked breaky!"

My eyes popped open as I sat up. Nothing good can come from a three year old—who can't even reach the counter top—cooking food. I really should move that step stool out of his reach.

I looked down at him, standing next to my bed with a plate of raw eggs, raw, ripped bacon and that ugly last slice of bread in the bag. My heart fucking exploded when I looked at the big smile on his face, so proud of the breakfast he'd made. He could barely hold up the damn plate as he held it over his head, making sure I could see. How can I be mad at him?

"You got up all by yourself and made this for me?"

"Yes," he smiled.

"For my birthday?"

He nodded, "Haaappy birfday!"

"Thank you so much buddy! I love this." I pause and looked at the plate of raw food that I'll have to pretend to eat. I’m gonna have to Matrix dodge this… "Hey, how about I make you some breakfast now too?"

"Okay!"

Nailed it.

We went down to the kitchen and I wasn't even surprised by the huge mess. I still couldn't be mad at him though, because he really did look proud of himself. He never tried to cook before so this was a big deal for him. From the looks of it, he put everything where it had to go—the eggs in the frying pan, bread in the toaster—without actually turning anything on, which is a fucking gift.

I went on cleaning and cooking at the same time. He graciously ate his eggs and bacon, while I cooked the raw stuff he gave me. Thankfully he didn't notice.

"Do you wanna go to daycare all day today, or do you want me to pick you up early?" I only have a half day today.

"Early?"

"Yeah and you can spend the rest of the day with me." He nodded happily. "Sounds good. We better get dressed then, huh?"

"I want to wear my batman shirt!" He shouted as he scampered up the stairs one step at a time. "Niall?!"

"Yes?"

"How many are you now?"

"I'm twenty-five."

"That's a big number."

I wrinkled my nose as I helped him out of his pjs. "Are you calling me old?!"

"I'm tree."

"Well you'll be twenty-five before you know it. So embrace being three while you can." Oh man, Archie at twenty-five. The thought made me shudder. "I wish you could stay little."

"No! I wanna be big!" He flexed what I'm guess he imagined as a muscle in his bicep.

"You have to eat broccoli to be big."

He frowned as I yanked his batman shirt down his head, threading his arms through. "Miss Trisha doesn't like broccoli. She said."

"And that's why Miss Trisha is smaller than me."

"Really?"

I grinned, helping him into his pants, "Yup. But don't tell her about it. It makes her upset."