~Close your eyes and picture the warmth of the sun on your skin... that's how being loved by her felt~
Harry Styles is a nepotism baby turned new father, left clueless with a newborn baby to raise, he is overwhelmed and under pressure. Matters are...
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"Ohh, can you also please get some more blue balloons, I don't think we have enough."
"You don't think we have enough?" I refute, grabbing Nola's hand and dragging her through the store while trying to balance the basket in the other hand and my phone between my shoulder and cheek. "Sun, the whole house is covered in balloons, how many more do you want?"
"We don't have enough blue ones," She argues snappily. "We need more,"
"Sun–" I start, traipsing up and down the aisles to try and locate blue balloons. "I can't even find them–"
"Here, Daddy!" Nola calls, dropping my hand and skipping over to the shelving where there are multiple packs of blue balloons. "Blue ones!"
"Nevermind, Nola's found them," I tell Sunday, following after our daughter where she is haphazardly grabbing a dozen packets and trying to throw them into the basket that I am carrying. "Woah, Jelly Bean, I don't think we need that many balloons,"
"Just blue ones," Sunny chimes in at the same time that a loud cry rattles through the other line.
I can instantly tell that it is Mosi's. Juniper and Amos have different cries that are easy to identify. With a sigh, I hear Sunday begin to try and comfort Mosi.
"We don't need any other colour besides blue,"
"What kind of blue?" I ask after spotting the array of blue shades hanging from small hooks.
Mosi's cries intensify and I can hear Sunny pacing up and down the length of whatever room she is in. "Just blue, H."
"Okay, but Light blue? Dark blue? Electric blue? Navy blue?"
"Just blue," She tells me once again with an aggravated edge in her voice as she tries to soothe Mosi. "Roo? Can you do me a favour, flower? Can you go and find Popsy and Mosi's pacifier?"
"Yeah, Momma!" I hear Rory exclaim before little feet patter away. Sunny sighs again. "I'm sorry... whatever colour you think would be best but I think more of a cornflower blue,"
"Cornflower blue?" I repeat, a dark furrowing of my eyebrows. "What the fuck is cornflower blue?"
Nola lifts up two packets towards me. I squint, trying to read the bizarre names that these colours have been given with a grimace.
Blue is blue.
"Oh... you think this one, Jelly Bean?" I ask to which Nolee nods and tosses the packet into the basket. "Good choice, pretty girl,"
"Oh, can you also-"
"Sunday," I cut her off. "If you ask me to get one more thing I will scream, how are we so unorganised for this? We've had an entire year to plan for it?"
