DISCLAIMER I don't own a thing! Enjoy :)

I was the first to wake up to the sound of the freezer opening downstairs. I sat up in bed, listening carefully, knowing exactly who was downstairs. I tapped Marta on the shoulder, grinning sleepily, until she blinked her eyes open with clear irritation on her adorably groggy features.

"Hey, come follow me," I whispered, tugging her out of bed. She wordlessly followed, giving him a look that said "What on earth are you up to at this hour?"

They crept down the hall and slowly walked down the stairs and stood in the kitchen doorway. It was too funny.

Their son, a five year old Aiden, was sitting on the counter in his spaceman pajamas, covered with mint chocolate chip ice cream. I burst out laughing, while Marta just stared, shocked. Aiden saw us watching and smirked at us, and continued to eat the ice cream. It was smeared all over his face and pajama top. He had even managed to get some in his hair.

"Aiden Kenneth Cross," Marta scolded, making a move to take the now almost empty gallon of green ice cream away from her son.

He scowled at her, which only made me laugh harder, when he held it away from her. To my pure amusement, he stuck out his tongue and quickly gulped down the rest of the stuff, smacking his lips. His mother stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. I was still laughing, and she shot me this "You're a parent!" look, which only made me laugh harder. I stopped after receiving a death glare and stood up straight, grinning, shaking my head.

"Baby, why did you eat all of it?"

"I was hungry."

"Then you should have eaten your veggies."

He pouted, folding his arms over his chest. The kid hated anything and everything healthy. He practically lived off of bacon. "They're gross, Mommy," he said.

I stepped forward and swept him off the counter, not minding the sticky goop he got on my shirt. He had his mother's big soft eyes, and my short hair. He was getting kind of tall already. He was the funniest kid in the world. "C'mon, buddy, let's get you into the bathtub."

"No! This is revenge!"

"Revenge? Kid, what grade are you in again?"

He smirked at me. "Mommy explained it to me. This was revenge for making me eat my apples!"

I laughed again. Marta rolled her eyes. "Honey, you need to eat healthy."

"No." He was stubborn. "I want more ice cream."

"Buddy, you ate the entire gallon," I told him, shaking my head. "You'll get sick in the morning if you eat any more of that stuff. And, yes, I know. They tasted gross to me too when I was your age."

He gave me one of his mother's suspicious looks. "Yeah, right."

"Would I lie to you?"

"Yes." he glowered as I set him down on the kitchen floor.

"Kid, listen: no more late night snacks. Your mother will have my head on a silver platter if I let this slide."

His eyes went wide, and he looked at his mother. "Mommy? You would cook his head?"

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing.

Aiden went over to the freezer, still holding onto his spoon. I thought he was going to close it. But, man, that little guy was fast.

He snagged the gallon of vanilla ice cream and dashed away from us, laughing as we heard him run up the stairs and slam the door to his bedroom.

Marta only looked at me with an exasperated look before saying, "I totally blame you for that."

I put on an innocent look. "Me? What about you?"

"You always steal my food!" It was true. It was a daily thing for me to steal something off her plate at any given time of the day, and it always drove her crazy.

"Yeah, but only 'cuz I love you."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, stealing is a sign of love."

"Yup. And what about you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What about me, Aaron?" I smirked, and she glowered. "Oh, don't say it," she began, but my mouth was already open.

"What about saying your packing me a good lunch and all I get was a card that says 'don't steal my food'?" she smiled.

"That is a sign of affection, Aaron."

"Yeah, well, so is stealing your food!"

She rolled her eyes again, and headed for the stairs. "Come on," she said, grabbing my arm. "Let's get that little thief cleaned up."

"He's never going to forgive you if you take away that ice cream," I warned her. "Remember what happened with the Halloween candy? He hid it all under his bed and ate it all in one night when we went to sleep, after you said only one piece! And that other time, at Christmas, when he kept sneaking looks at his presents after you told him Santa was real?"

"He was only three!" she protested. "Santa was real to him!"

"Yeah, until he found that shopping list pinned to the fridge."

"Oh, shut up. It's not like he didn't catch you cleaning your guns when he isn't supposed to know about them."

"That wasn't my fault. You were supposed to take him to the park that evening!"

We climbed the stairs and opened the door, only to find a giggling Aiden with ice cream all over his face. He hadn't even eaten any of it; he just used it as makeup.

Marta burst out laughing when I didn't. "Look at that!" she gasped. He had painted his entire face with vanilla. The kid was grinning from ear to ear, and I realized she was laughing because I was the one who was going to have to clean his face up, along with his hair, sheets, clothes, and now his pillow.

"I swear, that kid is going to wreck us."

She gave me a look. "He's already wrecked half the house. What more can he do?"

"Mommy," Aiden said suddenly, "what's so funny?"

This somehow made her laugh again. She shook her head, gasping again. "Nothing, sweetie, nothing..."

I groaned as she elbowed me before leaving the room. Next time, I thought, when he decides to go play army and get his face caked in mud, she was going to be the one to clean him up.

Besides, the kid knew us too well. Mint ice cream was Marta's favorite.

Vanilla was mine.

And now we had none, and he had taken it all. Typical.