I don't know why, but this idea came to my head…
"Lilly, I'm home!" I heard from the front door of our apartment, and a slamming door. I rolled my eyes because I was just in the middle.
"I'm in here!" I screamed from the part of the apartment that's only a few feet away from the door.
He came in, and wrapped his arms around my waist. I looked up and grinned at him and kissed his cheek.
"How was your day, sweetie," I asked as he took off his jacket, and started undoing some buttons off of his button down shirt.
I stared at him, distracted from my own baby. He whimpered.
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry, let me change your diaper," I said, tickling his tummy. He giggled at me and flashed his toothless smile at me.
After finishing his undoing, Oliver looked at me. "What are you sorry for, babe?"
I rolled my eyes at him.
"I was talking to my baby," I said, grinning at him. He came over to me and once again wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me.
"Well, you're my baby," he said, his hot breath hitting my ear. I smiled at him. His eyebrows were going up and down indicating he wanted something from me.
"Oliver! The baby hasn't had his first bath yet!"
Our little baby was just a little over a week old. And he still hadn't had his first bath. I blame Oliver.
He smiled at me, then cracked.
"WHAT?! HE DIDN'T?! REALLY?! LET ME GET THE CAMERA!"
Ever since we brought our son home, Oliver has been filming EVERYTHING. Every first our baby has. I mean every moment. He was obsessed.
It's kinda hot, though.
He came back, dashing in with his camera. He now had a beret on.
"You look retarded," I said.
"You're so loving."
I took our son into the kitchen.
He gazed at me as I left the room.
"Oh yeah…" he said in that voice. There's another thing about him that I love. There was something indescribably irresistible about that voice whenever he said 'Oh yeah.'
Oliver followed me into our tiny apartment kitchen.
"Hold on, let me get the baby lotion, the soap-"
"-and the shampoo."
I looked at him, "I'm gonna regret asking, but why does he need shampoo?" He rolled his eyes at me as if this was such an obvious topic.
"Well, if he's gonna have amazing hair like his father, he's gotta start early with," he headed to the small bathroom, and came back with a few bottles, "this, this, this– no not that, and this."
He had a satisfied smile. The bottles were about to fall out of his arms, so I did the most mature, logical thing:
I hit his arms, making his 'hair care' all fall down, bust open the caps, and have colors spill out.
"Lillian!" He moaned at me.
"Yes, Oliver-ian?" I smirked at him. He captured my lips, but a little cry had separated us. He was still in that stupid beret.
I lifted the lever in the middle to make the water lukewarm, so it wouldn't be too hot nor too cold for the baby.
Before the water could even get to a good level for him to be dipped in, Oliver placed his hand on the lever.
"Um, Lilly-Pop, maybe the bathtub would be better?" I glared at him.
I sighed, "Fine, Oliver. I know you have something up your sleeve, though." He smirked at me.
"After year, my dear." I walked, baby in arms, into our little bathroom. It was a good size: it had a toilet, sink, cabinet, and combined shower and bathtub.
He was filming me. I turned the water on to warm, so it wouldn't burn him.
"Okay, baby, which do you like: bubble gum or fruit?" I asked, cooing at the baby, now placed in tub. He just stared at me.
Olvier zoomed in at our clueless son.
"Preferably, I'd go with the fruit one, it's blue, and it's not pink like bubble gum." I rolled my eyes at him.
"Am I talking to you?!" I snapped at my husband, making him almost drop the camera.
"Oh, y goodness!" He said, backing off. I giggled at him, and placed a small peck on his cheek.
"So what do you think, baby?"
He cooed cutely towards the pink bottle. I smiled cheekily at him, and started to squirt some into the nice water.
Oliver was already filming this. By starting from the very beginning would-
"AW MAN! I ONLY GOT LIKE AN HOUR ON THIS!"
"Olivr, honey, it's only gonna take like, fifteen minutes… maybe ten," I said, having that sweet flashback.
"How long you think she's gonna be?"
"Oh, I don't know… ten… fifteen minutes?"
"Twenty tops," I said, snapping out of my old high school love memory. He moaned.
"Well… okay," he said. I continued on to gently scrubbing the baby's head. He giggled a little as a bubble popped.
"Ollie! Did you get that?!"
He smiled as he put the camera down a little, "Yes, I did."
To Oliver's wishes, I put a small sample of baby shampoo on the little baby's head, making him coo in delight.
He was only growing fine patches of hair, so fine that you couldn't really see the color.
Olvier decided to wash him off, so I grabbed the camera and he grabbed a blue washcloth. He started washing our baby– but so gently, and tenderly.
Oliver had washed him, bubble-free, and wrapped him in a little towel. I zoomed in on him. Our poor baby looked like he was being tortured, being swaddled in a duckie print towel (which, cough, belonged to Oliver).
Oliver and I had ventured on into our bedroom where the crib was placed on my side of the bed. Oliver had laid him done tenderly, with our little baby dribbling.
He'd grabbed a onesie from one of our drawers, and, without messing it up, made our baby clad in my favorite onesie.
I'd grabbed him, kissed his forehead, and Oliver did the same. We let him in the crib, placed a small blankie on him, and let him drift to sleep.
"I'm gonna go drain the bathroom, I'll-"
"I'll come with," Olvier offered. He grabbed my hand, and led me into our bathroom. I still needed to clean the kitchen floor with the shampoo mess– maybe I'll make Oliver do-
He was now locking the door, grabbing something from his work pants pocket. Oh no. I thought. It was a bottle, blue, and extra sticky. I placed the camera on the last available space– the floor.
"Oken, you better not…"
"Why Oken, you afraid of Big Daddy Oken's hair supply?" I rolled my eyes at him. He lifted the cap, and begin to squirt.
It'd landed on my favorite shirt ever, at least since the baby was born. He then aimed at my face, my hair, my pants…
But then he unsuccessfully aimed at my feet, squirting the floor, making me slip and fall.
"OLIVER OSCAR OKEN, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!!" I exclaimed, trying to get up back on my feet, failing, and falling right down on my butt again. He laughed at me, so I grabbed what I could– shaving cream.
There was still in it– but the best part? It was Oliver's. His grin faded into a frown.
"Lilly, no! That's my favorite!"
"I know!" And started spewing out the cream. It landed in his hair, going down his shirt (which was still unbuttoned, by the way), and to the floor.
He looked at me, "LILLIAN OKEN!" He slipped as he tried to approach me, landing right on top of me.
I started giggling.
"Why hello there, hot stuff," I said, winking at him. He leaned down towards my face, crashing his lips onto mine. I ran my fingers through his hair with the white cream, my eyes shut tight, enjoying this moment.
My face had blue botches on it, while his had white. He started kissing my nose, giving him a taste of-
"EWW! No wonder why I stopped eating shampoo!" I glared at him with a weirded-out expression.
He tried to get up from his position, but I pulled him back down. He looked at me, questionably-
-but unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his worked-out body had already given him the signal. I poked him, and he blushed like a beet.
-OliverHeartsLilly-
I was feeding our little baby with a bottle and his little face brightened up a week later. After he let out a burp, I put him down back in my arms near my chest.
"Lilly, he's adorable!" Miley exclaimed, cooing at our little son. I smiled at her.
"Yeah, he kinda takes after his daddy," I said, emphasizing on kinda.
"I heard that!" Oliver called, coming into the main room of the apartment, where Miley and Jake were next to me.
Oliver crashed down right next to me, placing his arm around my shoulders. It gave me that warm feeling– you know? When you're with the person you love and it's the simple moments-
"Lilly! Turn the dang t.v. on! I wanna see all of his firsts!" Miley exclaimed. I rolled my eyes, and pressed the play button on the remote.
From his first feeding, to first outing, and more, we'd finally hit the latest– the bath time. He splished and splashed happily from the shampoo and swaddling.
I'd thought that was it, and the video would just stop, but-
"WHAT THE HECK IS OLIVER'S SHIRT DOING OFF?!"
I was biting my lip in embarrassment as Jake and Miley were witnessing… that.
"JAKE! TAKE ME OUTTA HERE! MY EYES ARE BURNING!" Miley exclaimed. Jake escorted her out, them both waving goodbye.
"Round Two, Lilly-Pop?"
"You're on, Olly-Pop."
I didn't know what to name the baby. :P Tell me what you think. Good? Bad? (x