Chris grunted as he found himself lifted from the nice comfy mattress. He blinked to see Linnie already dressed and sitting in her bouncy chair trying to bat at her mobile. "No, Daddy. I'll wait till Papa wakes up."
"How's my boy this morning?"
"Tired. Linnie kept me up half the night. Just put me back down, please." Chris thought Linnie muttered 'fat chance' as Daddy carried him away from the crib. "No, Daddy. What do you think you're doing?"
"My precious boy. Are you ready for your bath?"
"Nooo.. I'm going back to sleep. I told you that."
"Linnie already had her bath. Now it's your turn."
"No! I don't like that frou-frou stuff she uses. She smells like a girl. I'll wait. I can bath tonight. I'm not even dirty yet."
"Papa. Make him let me sleep."
"Guess what," Jethro was unsnapping his jammies. "Papa got something special for your bath. What do you smell?"
"Daddy, I don't want to smell. Quit unbuttoning my jammies. I want to go back to sleep." Chris whined.
"Who's Daddy's special boy?
"I am... usually." Chris muttered.
"Hmm... Who's my special boy?"
"Are you deaf?"
"Who's my boy? You are... Yes, you are."
"I do not want to play." Chris tried to prevent his jammies from being pulled off. "Daddy. Stop it."
Jethro tickled his sleepy son's tummy and then removed the g-diaper.
"Hey, I'm naked here."
"Here we go." Jethro slipped the baby boy into the water. He quickly covered his son's privates, before Chris could launch his own wet assault. "Doesn't that smell good? Daddy found you almond coconut. Doesn't it smell good?" He leaned down and whispered. "Reminds me of Papa's special pound cake."
Chris considered. "It does. That reminds me. How come you never share with me? Papa makes a whole big cake and gives you the biggest slice. You don't even share a crumb. That's downright stingy and very inconsiderate. Kind of like popping me this bath after I told you I wasn't even dirty."
"After we get finished, how about some breakfast? I'll heat you a bottle and we could set on the porch while you eat."
"Why didn't you say so? Get me out of this bath, I'm starving." Chris demanded impatiently. "Noooo, not the hair. Papa did it yesterday. You're going to wash it off and I'll be bald."
"Here we go," Jethro swaddled his son in a towel and headed off to pick out an outfit.
"I'll have my khakis and the tee I wore yesterday." Chris said.
"Okay, your sister is in here mint green dress, now I know Papa bought you a coordinating outfit."
"Coordinating? That's for sissies. I'll just wear my khakis, they aren't dirty."
"Here it is." He pulled out a darker green pair of overalls with a matching mint shirt.
"No. That is so dorky. Real men don't wear green shoes."
"Papa is going to be so happy." Jethro began deftly clothing his son. "These are his favorite outfits."
"Not wait one cotton-picking minute." Chris was having trouble catching hold of the fingers quickly dressing him. "I told you not the green. I want yesterday's khakis."
"I'll have you dressed in a minute. You're impatient for breakfast this morning."
"What is wrong with you? I... am... not... wearing... the green. Or a bowtie." Chris recoiled in horro Are you not listening?"
"There we go." Jethro held him up to the mirror. "There's my handsome boy."
Chris moaned in mortification. He was wearing the green and the bowtie.
"We better go get that tummy fed." Jethro tickled his son's tummy as he held him. "You must be starving."
"I'm never eating again. I can never show my face again. How could you do this to me? Your only son. Just put me in the crib, I'm going on a hunger strike."
Jethro put his unhappy son up over his shoulder. "Daddy's going. Your bottle will be ready in a minute. Then you can play for a while. How's that sound?"
"Like you never listen to me." Chris thought about protesting again. However, Aunt Breena did make really great milk. His hunger strike would be easier on a full stomach, after all.
