Hanging up in Tyson's old home were two separate frames of Grandpa's two oldest grandchildren, Tyler and Christine. Each one held a picture of the child as a baby, a print of their name, and their two little foot prints made with ink. Now that the third child, Haley, had arrived, Grandpa was in need of another frame. And he had not let Tyson forget it.

Finally, when Haley was nearly two months old, Tyson couldn't take being reminded anymore. He decided to go out and get all of the things he would need to make the piece, including a frame that matched the original two and a bottle of black ink for the baby's foot prints.

Hilary had been spending almost all of her maternity leave with the baby. It was only natural, after all. That's what the leave was for, other than for also allowing Hilary to heal. She had to feed the baby, bathe her, change her, and keep her content. Hilary didn't seem to mind, though. She loved being a mother and would do absolutely anything for her children.

This was why Tyson was surprised when Hilary informed him one morning that she'd be going back to the hospital that day.

"But…you still have two weeks left on your leave," Tyson murmured.

"Oh, I'm not going back to actually treat people just yet!" Hilary laughed. "I'm still too tired. But I literally haven't stepped foot in that building since before I gave birth. I need to check a few things out and make sure everything is in order. I know that if I go back to a mess in two weeks, I'll go crazy."

"What about Haley's footprints?" Tyson asked anxiously.

"We'll get them done, maybe tomorrow," Hilary assured her husband. "You can take care of Haley while I'm in the hospital, right?"

"Yeah…" Tyson replied incredulously.

"Awesome," Hilary breathed, skirting forward and pressing a kiss against Tyson's lips. "And make sure Tyler and Christine behave! They love Haley, but there's still some jealousy running through their systems."

"Sure," Tyson replied mindlessly, which didn't seem to deter Hilary. Soon enough, she was out the door, and as soon as it closed, Haley's cries sounded and reached Tyson's ears. "Ugh, it's like she's psychic or something."

He hurried up the stairs and into the newborn's nursery, where he found the baby lying in her crib and crying. She was dressed in a light pink bodysuit, with long sleeves and printed with tiny blue and red flowers.

"Okay, okay," Tyson soothed, lifting the baby up and patting her on the back. "Shh…it's okay, pumpkin. Daddy's right here. Daddy's got ya'."

The baby quieted up rather quickly, much to Tyson's delight. He liked knowing that he could calm the baby down just by holding her. The man's smile was quickly replaced by a frown, however, when his wife's words echoed through his head about getting Haley's foot prints done.

Maybe tomorrow.

"I don't want to wait anymore…" Tyson grumbled to himself. "I love my Grandpa, baby girl, but he's about to drive me over the edge with these little foot prints of yours."

Haley rested her cheek against Tyson's shoulder and stared at the far wall, sticking her tongue out of her mouth.

"Daddy, your phone is ringing!"

The man spun around and found Christine running towards him, the red mobile in her hand.

"Thanks…" Tyson murmured, leaning down to take it from his older daughter. Holding the small phone against his ear, Tyson asked, "hello?"

"Whassup, T-Dawg!"

"Gramps?" Tyson's voice was full of surprise. "Uh, morning."

"Whatchya cookin' homie? N how's the mamasita? You been givin my home girl any troubles lately, yo?"

"Hello to you too Gramps." Tyson deadpanned.

"Yo! Waz thinkin bout ma lil squirt! How's she?"

"Haley is a happy little thing, mostly," Tyson chuckled. "Still tiny, which is weird because she's got one of the biggest appetites I've ever seen. But at least she eats! A lot, too."

"Yo, I am stoked! Anyway, T-dude, you did whatchya asked you.…"

"What is it, Grandpa?"

"Da frame on ma wall, yo!''

Tyson managed to resist the urge to pull the phone away from his ear and slam it repeatedly into his face, instead replying, "no, not yet."

"Get it done, homie! You dig! Or you'll answa ma cane!''

"Yes Gramps," Tyson nearly grumbled.

"Okay then! Hooroo!."

As soon as the call ended, Tyson sighed and lowered his phone to his side. He literally couldn't take it anymore. Turning around, he found his older daughter halfway hanging out of Haley's toy chest, her legs dangling out as her upper half was engulfed by the sea of toys stuffed in the wooden box.

"Christine!" Tyson called.

The girl squeaked and jumped out of the chest, her eyes wide in slight fear. She was afraid she was in trouble for digging through Haley's toy box, but really, Tyson could care less about that.

"Come on, princess, I need your help," Tyson sighed.

"With what?" Christine asked. "Haley?"

"Sort of…" Tyson trailed off. "Just…come with me downstairs."

Christine jumped up and ran after her father, breezing past him and looking like a colorful flash in her aqua capri leggings and her white hooded tunic tee. Once she got to the bottom of the steps, she stopped and stared back up at her father, blinking curiously.

"Where?" Christine queried.

"Hmm…let's go to the kitchen," Tyson decided. Christine nodded and ran right in, with Tyson following closely behind. He had already left all of the things they needed to make the footprints on the counter anyway. As he walked over to the bag to retrieve the frame mat and bottle of ink, Christine clambered up onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table and watched her father's every move. When he returned with the white sheet and jar of ink, Christine raised an eyebrow.

"What's that for?" Christine pointed at the two objects.

"We're going to take Haley's footprints for Gramps," Tyson answered his daughter. "You know how he has yours and Tyler's?"

"Oh, yeah!" Christine chirped, her eyes lighting up.

"Here, do Daddy a favor…" Tyson slid the bottle of ink towards Christine. "Can you take the top of that off for me, princess? Just be careful with it. I don't want any of the ink to end up on your shirt."

"Okay Daddy," Christine smiled, twisting the dark blue top off of the translucent bottle. Once it was off, she moved it back towards her father, being extremely cautious with it so the container wouldn't tip over and spill.

"Thanks, Christy," Tyson grinned at the girl. "You're such a big help!"

"Thanks!" Christine trilled before showing off a more curious look. "So…how are you gonna' get Haley's footprints?"

"It's easy," Tyson chuckled. "Especially since Haley isn't wearing pajamas that cover her legs!"

He turned the baby around so she was facing Christine. The baby cooed and blinked, waving one arm in the air and sticking her other hand in her mouth. Her legs and feet were completely bare, which did make Tyson's job much easier.

"Now, you keep still, Haley," Tyson murmured to the baby, as though she would actually listen to him. She didn't move, however, as Tyson submerged the baby's small left foot into the bottle of ink, causing Haley to gurgle in irritation.

"She doesn't like it very much," Christine commented.

"It'll be fine," Tyson assured. He pulled her foot out and held the baby's leg with his hand to keep it still. "Christine, hold down the mat for me."

"Huh?"

"The paper," Tyson sighed, motioning his head toward the white canvas material.

Christine nodded and pressed her little palms down on the corners of the square. Lowering a whimpering Haley, Tyson pressed her ink covered left foot against the surface of the mat and waited a few seconds before removing it. Once he lifted the baby back up, a perfect black footprint was left behind, causing Christine to beam in shock.

"Wow, that's cool!" Christine marveled. "Is that how you got me and Tyler's footprints when we were little?"

"Uh huh!" Tyson chuckled. "It's not so bad, huh?"

He sunk Haley's right foot in the ink the same way he had with the left and then pulled it out in order to create another foot print on the mat. Once he removed her foot from the white surface, a perfect rendering of Haley's left and right footprints were left behind, causing Tyson to grin widely.

"Perfect!" He cheered. Looking down at Haley, he cooed, "see? We don't need Mama to help us out, right? Daddy and Haley make a great team!"

"And Christy!" Christine protested rather loudly, earning a disgruntled whine from the baby.

"Sorry, princess," Tyson apologized with a smile. "You, Haley, and I make a great team!"

"That's more like it," Christine remarked, causing Tyson to chortle. With that settled he carried Haley over to the sink and started to run the water, holding his hand beneath the liquid until he felt it was warm enough without being too hot. Once he had approved of the temperature, Tyson held the baby's small left foot beneath the faucet and began to wash the ink off.

Except…the ink didn't seem to want to come off.

"Man, this is a lot harder than I remember it being…" Tyson muttered.

"Daddy," Christine piped up, "why does this bottle say per…permanent?"

Tyson's head snapped up and his eyes widened. Little Haley, meanwhile, simply cooed and tilted her head back until it was touching Tyson's chest.

"Daddy?" Christine repeated.

"Wh…what do you mean it says permanent?" Tyson stammered.

"I dunno, it's what the ink says!" Christine squeaked.

Tyson once again stared down at his baby daughter's ink covered foot, which was still being held beneath the running water. Absolutely none of the dark toner was coming off of her light skin, and it was at that moment Tyson swore he was going to lose his mind.

"I bought permanent ink!" Tyson hissed at himself, turning the water off and carrying Haley back over to the table, her small feet still covered by a fine coating of ink.

Staring at her younger sister's feet for a short moment, Christine looked up at her father again and asked slowly, "does that mean Haley's feet are gonna' be like that forever?"

"They better not be!" Tyson panicked.

Haley gurgled and fussed in Tyson's arms, as if she was trying to escape. Tyson twisted his mouth and held onto the baby more tightly. She wouldn't stop her wiggling, however, so Tyson finally switched the fussy baby into a cradling hold, with her head against his inner elbow and the rest of her body lying across his forearm. Once she was settled, Haley let out a yawn and snuggled her head against Tyson, closing her eyes as she did so.

"Uh oh," Tyson breathed.

"What?" Christine questioned.

"Haley is falling asleep!" Tyson cried.

"So?" Christine squeaked.

"I can't keep trying to scrub off the ink if she's sleeping!" Tyson was finally in full-fledged panic mode. "Because that'll wake her up, and then she'll be cranky! And her whole schedule will be messed up! And if Mommy comes home to a cranky baby who isn't following her schedule anymore, she'll go crazy!"

Christine jumped off of her chair and scurried over to Tyson, grabbing at the leg of his pants as she yelled, "calm down, Daddy!"

Tyson finally stopped and let out a long breath, sighing exasperatedly, "thanks, Christy."

"You're welcome," Christine giggled, letting go of his pants.

"But this is still really bad…" Tyson sighed, staring down at Haley's tiny, ink covered feet. "I've got to get this stuff off before Mommy comes back!"

"Get what off before I come back?"

Tyson's heart shot up into his throat. He looked up slowly…very slowly…and found himself locking eyes with Hilary. She had her arms folded across her chest and a single eyebrow raised, her green eyes flickering with confusion. Pressing her lips together, Christine quietly made her way back to the chair she had previously inhabited, not wanting to be anywhere near her Daddy when her Mommy took him down.

"Uh…I…well…I…" Tyson stammered.

Studying her newborn daughter from a distance, Hilary furrowed her brow when her eyes fell onto the small child's feet. She strode forward until she was standing right in front of Tyson, the distance so close that Tyson felt the need to hold his breath. Leaning down, Hilary studied Haley's feet closely, smiling despite the situation when the girl wiggled her tiny toes in her sleep.

"Hilary, I-"

"It's ink," Hilary interrupted, standing back up to her full height and staring into Tyson's chocolate brown orbs.

"…yes."

"You did Haley's footprints."

"…yes."

"You accidentally bought permanent ink."

"…yes."

Sighing, Hilary smirked and shook her head. Wordlessly, she took the baby from her husband and turned around, walking towards the stairs and carrying the sleeping baby straight up them. Tyson just stood there in confusion, but eventually found the power to move his legs and follow after his wife. Christine was right behind him, also wondering why her mother was so calm. Maybe she was plotting how to punish Tyson or something.

Rather than finding her in some secret lair, however, the two found her in the bathroom, still cradling Haley as she opened one of the mirrored cabinets and pulled out a dark brown bottle. She then reached into a nearby glass container and plucked out a cotton ball, handing it off to her still bewildered husband.

"Pour some of the liquid in the bottle onto the cotton ball," Hilary quietly instructed, not wanting to disrupt their sleeping daughter.

Nodding wordlessly, Tyson picked up the brown bottle and flipped open the white top, holding the cotton ball against its small spout and blotting the liquid into the ball. After removing the bottle, Tyson handed the now damp cotton ball over to Hilary and watched silently as she took it to Haley's feet and began to slowly and gently scrub, eyes kept intently on the ink covered flesh.

It took a little awhile, but with enough scrubbing, the ink eventually came off of Haley's feet. Tyson was stunned, to say the least, while Christine seemed to think it was even cooler than Tyson's previous act of actually making Haley's footprints.

"That…worked?" Tyson finally asked.

"Of course it did," Hilary giggled gently. Now, she had taken a wash cloth and poured soap into it before running it underneath the faucet. "Everyone knows that using rubbing alcohol takes off permanent ink from the skin!"

"Except for Daddy," Christine commented under her breath.

"Christine!" Tyson scolded his older daughter while Hilary continued to laugh.

"Oh, Tyson, you can't be mad at her for being like me," Hilary trilled before winking at her husband.

"Of course not."

"Besides," Hilary added as she began to finish cleaning off Haley's feet with the washcloth, "I thought you'd be grateful to me for making sure our daughter's feet wouldn't be stained for the rest of her life!"

"I am," Tyson sighed, "but apparently it wasn't that hard to fix."

"No, it wasn't," Hilary agreed. "But next time, sweetheart?"

"…yeah?"

Narrowing her eyes, Hilary scolded, "Listen to what I say next time and maybe we won't end up in this kind of situation."

"Heh…yes, dear."