He sighed as he rummaged through yet another one of the numerous boxes that he'd brought down from the attic that morning. Somehow they'd managed to accrue an insane amount of stuff the last year or so in particular, and Rafael had been charged with rectifying the current disaster what was their attic. He'd been at it most of the morning. "Tenemos un montón de tarecos." He shook his head, pulling an item out. "Bueno, está roto." He looked over at Noah who was playing with his lego off to the side. "Mijo, ¿puedes tirar esto en la bolsa de basura de allí para mí por favor?" (We have a ton of junk. Well, this is broken. Mijo, can you please throw this in the garbage bag over there for me?)
"¿Por qué no lo haces?" the young boy said with a slight whine. "No quiero." (Why don't you do it? I don't want to.)
Rafael shot his son a stern look. Whining was one thing that quickly got on his nerves, especially when it was happening as often as it seemed to be lately. "Me importa tres pepinos, Muchacho. Tu mamá y yo estamos ocupados limpiando y puedes ayudarnos un poco." (I really couldn't care less, kid. Your mom and I are busy cleaning and you can help us out a little.)
"Claro, Papi," Noah replied, quickly making his way over to where Rafael was so he could do as asked. "Pero, ¿qué es un tareco?" The boy had clearly caught the word Rafael had used earlier. (Sure, Papi. But, what is a tareco?)
"Un viejo objeto inútil," he explained as he passed Noah several small objects to toss into the garbage bag and resumed his rummaging. "También puedes decir trasto." He gestured to the boxes. "Como esto..." He swiftly pulled out Noah's old, clearly damaged, LeapFrog. "No funciona y ocupa espacio." (An old, useless, object. You can also say trasto. Like this... It doesn't work and takes up space.)
Noah shrugged. "Funcionó bien." (It worked just fine.)
He tousled his son's hair. "Y luego decidiste que el pobrecito debería aprender a volar." (And then you decided that the poor thing should learn how to fly.)
Noah raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling with clear amusement. "Se me cayó la cosa por las escaleras," came the seven-year-old's retort. (I dropped the thing down the stairs.)
"Es exactamente lo que dije," he said cheekily. (That's exactly what I said.)
Noah rolled his eyes. "Bicho raro." (Weirdo.)
He shook his head, feigning exaggerated disapproval at the seven-year-olds remark. "Los niños de hoy... No tienen respeto." (Kids these days... They have no respect.)
His son immediately gave a little snort at that comment. "Te quiero, pero eres un poco extraño." (I love you, but you're a little weird.)
He chuckled. "Quiero que sepas, chico, que tu papá no solo es cómico, pero también es inteligente. Muy inteligente." (I'll have you know, kid, that your dad is not only funny but is intelligent too. Very intelligent.)
The seven-year-old looked at him with what could only be described as pure mirth. "¡Qué sonso eres!" (You're so silly!)
He ruffled the boy's hair playfully. "Tenemos algo en común entonces." (We have something in common then.)
Rafael quickly wrapped up what he was doing, finally, and closed the box, putting it off to the side so that he could put the boxes and things that they were keeping back in the attic later on.
Noah helped him take the garbage outside to the bin which Rafael really appreciated while Olivia continued to deal with Sofía, the bathroom, laundry, and a couple of other things that needed to be done.
As he came down from putting the last box back up in the attic, he sat down beside Noah - who had resumed playing with his lego - on the couch. "¿Terminaste de ordenar tu cuarto como te pedí?" (Did you finish tidying up your bedroom like I asked?)
The boy nodded, putting his lego down on the coffee table and looking at Rafael. "Sí. ¿Puedo ir a jugar al jardín ahora?" (Yes. Can I go play in the yard now?)
"Claro," he agreed easily. Noah had been a huge help that morning and could help a whole lot with the other things they needed to do anyway. "Te llamaré cuando sea hora de almorzar." (Sure. I'll call you when it's time for lunch.)
"¡Gracias!" As the boy spoke he was bolting for the entranceway to grab his running shoes and his soccer ball.
He shook his head amused as Noah went bolting by him yet again on his way outside. "¡Oye! ¡Cuidado con la puerta del patio!" (Hey! Watch out for the patio door!)
With Noah out of the way, he threw a few pieces of the boy's lego back on the table and swept the mess leftover from all the boxes. He then grabbed the fabuloso, the mop and the mop bucket, quickly washing the floor.
Once that was done, he made his way upstairs to where he could hear Olivia prattling about something or other, Sofía rather contentedly in her carrier.
He placed his hands on Olivia's waist from behind and turned her around so he could give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "How's it going in here?" he inquired.
"Oh, it's going," Olivia said, "but I think someone needs to be changed, and one of us still has to make a grocery run for the coming week at some point today."
"I've got her," Rafael said, putting his hands out to take Sofía as his wife started to take her out of the carrier. "Once she's changed I'll put her in her bouncer downstairs and start on lunch so you can finish up here. I'll make a grocery run this afternoon."
"Sounds good," she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips before going back to folding the laundry scattered on their bed. "Can you take those -" she gestured to a pile of clothes. "- and put them in Noah's room on your way down."
He readjusted his hold on Sofía - who clearly smelled of the agua de violeta that they'd been given the last time his aunt had come down from Miami. He then grabbed the pile of laundry, and headed to Noah's room, leaving the boy's clothes in a neat pile on his bed for the boy to put away later. He was more than old enough to do it in Rafael's opinion. He then headed downstairs, changed Sofía, got her settled, and started rummaging through the kitchen for something to throw together for lunch.
They still had some plantains, so he grabbed those for maduros and put them on the counter, took out some eggs to fry, grabbed the white rice, and grabbed the few things that he needed for a tomato and avocado salad.
He took several plates and cups down and placed them on the counter for Noah, grabbed Sofía, and made his way to the backyard. "Noah, ven y pon la mesa para el almuerzo por favor!" (Noah, come and set the table for lunch please!)
"¡Ok, Papi! Noah said, immediately stopped his game and making his way over to him. "Lo haré después de lavarme las manos." (I'll do it after I wash my hands.)
He gave a little half-nod. "Está bien." (That's fine.)
The pair then walked inside and while Noah was washing his hands, Rafael went upstairs to let Olivia know that lunch was ready.
He grabbed Sofía some yogurt as well as some mashed banana to eat while Noah set the table. He then made the little girl a bottle while he waited for his wife to join them. He had to chuckle though when he kept trying to take his glasses off. Again. "Princesa, por enésima vez, necesito estos espejuelos. No son un juguete." (Princesa, for the millionth time, I need these glasses. They're not a toy.)
The little girl giggled as Rafael playfully tickled her toes.
"What's going on in here?" Olivia questioned, smiling warmly, a lilt of amusement in her voice as she spoke.
"Oh, the usual," he deadpanned while tapping his glasses.
Olivia shook her head fondly. "Of course. I should've known."
Noah's stomach growled. "Can we eat now?"
"Yes," he said with a soft chuckle, "we can eat now."
They sat around, chatting over food, and Rafael gave Sofía a bit of the mashed banana and yogurt. Once Sofía had eaten that, Olivia took her to give Rafael a chance to eat, starting to give Sofía her bottle as the little girl was still hungry.
He had to stifle his reaction when Noah got their attention and gestured to Rafael's cup of coffee and looked between both parents. "Why can't I have coffee?"
Olivia gave their son a sideways look, eyes shinning with amusement. "Because it'll make you more energetic than you already are."
He waved the comment off. "Liv, if you think mami hasn't been letting him have sips of her café con leche when she babysits, I'm sorry to tell you..." He knew his mother and she wasn't about to find an issue with Noah having a bit of coffee. He didn't either, honestly. He'd grown up drinking it.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm aware, thank you, Rafa."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "So...?"
He gave his wife a sideways smile. "Liv?"
Olivia rolled her eyes. "You can have a sip."
Noah smirked as he grabbed Rafael's cup and pulled it towards him. "Gracias." (Thanks.)
She shook her head in fond exasperation. "Cheeky brat."
