𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝔾𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣- completed but editing

Chapter 94 | डुबो या तैरो (Sink or Swim)

At first, Danny having superpowers was great. He was a prodigy on so many levels. The whole 'my son is the future of the world' thing awed me for about a grand total of three hours.

But then the fact that because he's only three, he'll make a lot of mess also set in. I do mean a lot of mess.

I'm not complaining. Before Thanos, there were thousands of capable single moms who managed to parent their child(ren). It's just that for entire year, I had a partner. Now it was just me.

Five days after that day in the pool, Danny and I made the trip back home. I missed home, the feel of my own bed and the large separation I could have between and my son.

Pepper was able to go home from the hospital two days after Morgan was born and we were going over every day to check on her.

In fact-

Crash!

I ran out of the bathroom, skidding to a stop in the kitchen. Danny was sitting in the kitchen, covered in purple, green, and black paint.

But he wasn't the only thing that was colorful.

Paint was everywhere but the paper he was painting. Actually, it was saturated as well but compared to my kitchen, it was nothing to worry about.

"Danny!" I dashed forward, pulling my wet and sticky son off of the kitchen counter. His leg caught on a container of green paint and it splattered everywhere when it hit the floor. I groaned. "Danny, what happened?"

"I was painting, see, Mommy?" He showed me his hands but I was more focused on the paint spread through his hair.

I took a deep breath. "I see. Let's get you cleaned up."

Trying to avoid getting paint on my clothes, I took him to the large kitchen sink, stripping his clothes off to his underwear which, luckily, remained clean. I turned on the faucet and reached for a washcloth under the sink.

"I can do it, Mommy," Danny whined, kicking the edge of the sink.

Jerking my head up, I hit it on the top of the cabinet under the sink. "Ow! Dammit!"

There was a splashing sound and I stood up in time to see Danny use his little hand to channel the sink water towards his painted hands.

Unfortunately, his hands were covered in a layer of wet paint and the jet stream was too strong.

Droplets of watery paint flew everywhere, sending purple water onto my face, clothes, the kitchen, and the ceiling.

"Uh oh," he looked up.

I pressed my lips together, inhaling sharply. Anger and frustration were bubbling towards the edge and I was willing it not to explode. I should have told him to wait for me.

The spot on my forehead where I had it was throbbing, there was going to be a bruise.

Deep breath, Li Anne.

"Danny, don't touch the water," I wet the wash cloth and began to wipe him down, silently and quickly. He obeyed and I had him done in about five minutes, leaving the paint in his hair to be bedtime's problem.

He ran upstairs with me trailing behind to change clothes. I pulled out his favorite shirt and a pair of shorts for him to wear. "Stay here, Danny. I'm going to clean up downstairs. Read some books."

Danny grabbed some books off his shelf and crawled on his bed. I closed to the door behind him, ran down the hallway to my room, threw myself onto my bed, and screamed into my pillow. "Arggggghhhhh!"