"Jane, why the hell are you in Daniel's bed? Get the fuck up, or I'm telling Mom." Brendan hisses in my ear.
"Language, Brendan. Please calm down." Truth be told, I'm kind of scared of him. My mother believes whatever he tells her. One time, he was playing with the stove while I was babysitting...before you call me awful, there is no restraining this child. He does what he wants, when he wants too. He touhed a burner set on high, and he burnt his whole hand. Now, being a good big sister, I took care of it, but when Mom got home, he started crying and screaming, saying I had put his hand on the burner because he was being bad. My mother then proceeded to lock me in my room for a week, giving me food at certain times like it was a prison. Luckily, I had Orange is the New Black to keep me company.
I got up, carrying Daniel on my hip into the kitchen to make breakfast. He was doing that adorable rubbing his eyes that melts my heart. He looked up and smiled at me, and kissed me good morning. I sat him down on the counter, and we both made pancakes. I sat Brendan and Daniel down to go ahead and start eating, and went to go get Henry up. I walked down the hall to his nursery to find him up, cooing softy.
"Happy birthday, baby!" He grins at me with four teeth, and I smile back. It's his first birthday today, but we celebrated with the family a week ago. I pick out some clothes for him, and change him in the living room. I sit him down in his high chair, all dressed and ready to go. I cut up some pancakes into miniscule pieces, and he proceeds to attack as soon as I put them on his tray. Then I hear my mother coming down the hallway and brace myself. Brendan must hear her too, because then he pushes his fork as hard as he can into his hand, causing it to bleed a little.
"BRENDAN, STOP IT RIGHT-" I yell at him, before my mother dramatically gasps.
"Brendan, baby what happened?" she rushes over to him now that he's crying, and shows her his hand. He's whimpering, and tells her that I got mad at him for no reason, and started to hit him with the fork. Then, when he wouldn't be quiet, I stabbed his hand. My mother begins to shake her head at me.
"I am so disappointed in you." Like I care. "I would punish you, but I need you to run to the store. I have friends coming over, and I need some things.
I nod my head, and go to get dressed. I throw on an ethnic print baseball tee, my favorite ripped skinny jeans, and trusty black Converses. I brushed my hair out, but it looked kind of poofy, so i threw on a black beanie. I grabbed my phone, and asked Mom what she needed.
"Just get some ingredients for finger foods. You'll be cooking, so get things you know how to make." I nod quietly, and grab my keys.
"Can I take Henry? He's already dressed, and it's his birthday." I've already picked him up and got his shoes. Asking is just a formality, since my mother would love nothing more than for me to do a little babysitting as well.
"Fine. Be careful, please. Don't go to the ghetto Wal-Mart. Go to that new Kroger. I love you." My mother says to me, already typing an email or something.
I walk out, and put Henry in my car. It's nice out today, and for that I'm thankful. We head to Kroger, singing his favorite songs. He constantly giggles and claps when I get to his favorite parts. We head in to Kroger, when I notice that this one has an indoor Starbucks. I order a Mocha Frappuccino with no coffee. Yes, I went to a coffee shop to order a drink with no coffee, but I don't care. I'm waiting for my order with Henry on my hip when someone slips their hand into my back pocket.
I grab the hand and quickly twist around, bringing the arm with me. The offender cries out in pain, and I drop it as soon as I see it's owner's face. I back away slowly, and then run for it. It's the man from my driveway and that car ride last night. Henry starts to cry, and I quickly give him a pacifier. If he hears him, he'll find me. I start to run again, and I hit something solid. You guessed it. Him.
"Baby girl, there's no use. And by the way, you forgot your so-called coffee." He holds up my frappuccino, and smirks at me. I take back what I said. He isn't attractive at all.
