He hoped it never felt ordinary. Or boring for that matter. He had wanted this too much for too long. Perhaps that's why he worried- he feared that it wouldn't last some how, or he'd find out he was in the Nexus again, or some equally abhorrent notion.
Hearing his son begin to fuss, he disentangled himself from the combination that was his wife Beverly and the bed sheets. He took the portable monitoring unit, and walked around the corner into the baby's room.
His heart immediately soared. Upon making eye contact, his son quieted down, having achieved his goal. He wanted to be picked up, changed, fed and played with before going to the day care facility. It had become something of a ritual. It was too precious to be a routine.
Jean-Luc wondered when he became accustomed to changing diapers. Perhaps it was sheer determinism, having heard Beverly question his ability to deal with it shortly before his son's conception. It certainly had it's moments of unpleasantness, but if he held his breathe, and worked quickly, it was manageable.
Food was becoming more interesting too. His son had apparently gotten his mother's appetite. Cereal was a staple of breakfast, and now they were adding more. The peaches were a favorite, as were pears. Bananas were acceptable. The plums had been a complete disaster. He'd also tried bits of croissant and other pastry along the way, and anything he'd been able to sneak by Beverly and feed their child.
He'd started out dressing their son, then feeding. It worked for three days, which Beverly seemed to think was above average. Now he'd learned to feed first, then dress, to make things go more smoothly and avoid the dressing part again.
Jean-Luc had gotten better at the dressing part, even though the baby squirmed more with each passing day, with one exception- socks. The little things were so difficult to get on, yet apparently quite easy to get back off again. Most days he didn't bother, but simply set them with the bag for day care by the door. Beverly seemed to have a knack for it that he lacked, and frustratingly enough, took a great deal of pleasure in watching him struggle with it.
Usually, somewhere in the process of things, Beverly would appear, fully dressed and smiling. She'd coo and play for a few minutes, then take over where he left off long enough for him to finish getting ready for duty.
The three would play together until the alarm went off, reminding them of duty. (That had come to pass after Mr. Worf had come to check on them one morning after he hadn't arrived timely, and had somehow missed being called.) Then Beverly's fingers would quickly slide the socks on, just before they each kissed each other goodbye, waved, and went their separate ways...
Yes, morning ritual was definitely better than morning routine. It was exceptional. Amazing. Something to cherish in his heart. Always.