He ran his finger under the faucet to check the water's temperature, and when he was finally content that the baby would not be burned, he set Dylan into the sink. Dylan scrunched up his nose at the strange sensation, and Finnick found himself unconsciously echoing the child's expression. He grabbed the soap and began to lather it onto the two-month-old's skin. "Why do babies have to take baths in the sink?" asked Ronan, who was up on his tiptoes and looking down at his younger brother.
Finnick thought about that for a moment. "I'm not sure. Your mother told me to do it, though, and I don't want to make the boss angry."
"He looks like a vegetable," Maggie said from her seat on the counter, and Finnick chuckled. It never ceased to amaze him what his five and six-year-old children could come up with. "He does! He looks like you're washing a vegetable to put into soup!" Her red pigtails were lopsided, but her frown and crossed arms were not.
"Don't worry, love, I wasn't laughing at you, just the thought of your brother being a piece of food. A vegetable isn't the nicest thing to call someone." Finnick leaned over to kiss her forehead, and, for once, Maggie didn't lean away. Stubborn girl. Perhaps more was needed to make amends. "But, now that you bring it up, I do have to agree. Do you think we should eat him for dinner tomorrow?" he asked.
"Should we eat who for dinner?" Annie came into the kitchen, brushing the tangles from her dark hair.
"Dylan!" both children answered a bit too happily.
Annie looked between the four of them and shook her head. "And why are we eating your younger brother?"
"I thought we could eat all our children. First, we'd start with Dylan soup, then for the second course, maybe some Maggie salad." He pumped out some shampoo and worked it into Dylan's hair. "How does that sound?" Finnick asked the baby, who grinned up at him.
"We can't let Ronan get away. I think we should finish up with roasted Ronan." The little boy blanched and tried to run away, but Annie stopped him. "Do you really think I would eat you?"
"Okay, maybe he doesn't look that much like a vegetable," Maggie decreed, head held high and hands on her hips.
Finnick looked up from rinsing Ronan's hair. "Young lady, we do not stand on the counter." He watched her sit back down. "That's better, thank you. And now, little man, I think that bathtime is complete." As he turned off the water, Annie grabbed the towel and waited for Finnick to place the baby in her arms. He made sure Dylan was well settled before addressing the room's other occupants. "And if Dylan's older siblings really don't want to be eaten by the daddy monster, I recommend that they go get their pajamas on now."
"Or what?" Did she really have to ask?
"Or the daddy monster will get them!" Even before he had finished his sentence, giggles and two sets of running footsteps could be heard hurrying down the hall. Finnick chased after them with teeth bared. He could already hear Annie's scolding about getting the kids riled up right before bed, but these few minutes of pure, undiluted joy were more than worth it.