So, I got a bit sidetracked whilst writing Eye Of The Storm, so I decided to write a mini one-shot. Is it okay? Read and review it if you think I still suck at one-shots.

Enjoy!

I love Peeta. I really do! But sometimes I have to despair at the typically, well, boyish things he does! I mean, seriously?

"Mommy, can I have one of Daddy's cookies?" Willow looked at me with her midnight blue eyes. God, I'm a sucker when it comes to those eyes. I gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Of course, sweetie. Let's see if he'll let you ice one." I took her little hand and walked her over to the kitchen of our house. Yes, the very same one that we planted Prim's evening primroses in the front yard.

"Daddy?" I called. "Someone wants to know if any of your special cookies are baking!" As I walked Willow into the kitchen I saw that Peeta was leaning against the kitchen counter. I couldn't see his face, but his shoulders were tensed. I knew what was going on. He sometimes had flashbacks of what had happened before the peace. We both do. I quickly turned to Willow.

"Do you wanna go and fetch Rye, sweetheart? Then you can both have cookies." Willow nodded eagerly and ran off to go find her baby brother. Not so much a baby now, though. I came over to Peeta and out my hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?" I said quietly. Peeta said nothing. I turned to face him. An intense frown was on his face.

"What's wrong?" Peeta struggled to speak for a moment, seeming lost for words. Then he suddenly burst out.

"My hair! My stupid fringe just won't go straight!" He almost screamed.

"Oh, my god Peeta!" I almost yelled back. I was so relieved he was okay, but despairing at him too. "You're getting in such a mess because of your hair?" Taking a deep breath and trying not to hit him, I carried on in a quieter tone. "Peeta, it is just hair. What is the big deal?" He shook his head sadly, clearly thinking I was a moron.

"You wouldn't understand, Katniss. When someone spends so long perfecting their hair, you just can't stand to see it wrong. It was…" At this point I tuned out completely, not interested in everything that was ruining his perfect head. Why should I care if his hair is wrong? Would I even notice anyway?

"…and it was just really annoying me." Peeta finally finished about three weeks later.

Willow came skipping into the kitchen with Rye tumbling around behind her. "Cookies, cookies!" They chanted. I turned to Peeta.

"Does Daddy have any of his special cookies for us?" I asked him. He grinned, his blonde fringe (it looked fine to me!) flopping into his eyes. I love that.

"I might have something up my sleeve." He wiggled his eyebrows ridiculously and gave each child a poke on the nose, which made them both giggle. With a flourish, he whipped out a box of his chewy cookies that Willow especially loves.

"And…" Peeta made a big show of searching around his pockets. "I wonder where the icing has gone?" He asked on mock confusion, scratching his head. He reached behind each child's ear and pulled out a piping bag from each, making them 'ooh' appreciatively. "Who wants to ice theirs first?" He asked.

"Me! Me!" Willow and Rye both shouted, jumping up and down.

"Okay, you can both go first. One on either side of me."

I watched Peeta as he carefully iced the cookies with our children. An act of goodness: helping Peeta get over his hair. Another one to add to the list.