Lullabies for Styles (Third book)

{1}

Niall

"Oliver please! You're going to be late!" I yelled as our six year old son imitated a zombie while walking into the kitchen.

"Oliver, you're not even dressed." I was already stressed as it was. Today was a big day for me and I couldn't have the kids messing around.

I had a job interview with a big company today. I was going to work as a receptionist for a huge publishing company. Sure it wasn't the best job, but it would bring in money.

Harry and I both decided that he would be the first to get a job while I stayed home and watched the kids. Now that they were in first grade and Harry's hours had shifted, I could get a job.

Harry worked as a chef at a local organic restaurant. They use to be open breakfast, lunch and dinner but a few months ago they cut down to breakfast and lunch so Harry gets off at three.

"Dad, I don't want to go to school." Oliver complained. I sighed as I tried to fix my hair in the small mirror hanging on the wall in the living room.

"Well I don't have a babysitter and your father is at work so you're going." I said.

"You're such a pain." Bambi snickered at Oliver. You'd think they'd be nice to each other considering they were twins and they were the opposite gender. If anything it was worse. They were constantly down each other's throats.

"Bambi don't talk to your brother like that," I groaned before I turned to the two of them, bending down to their level.

"Oliver, go get dressed." He let out a loud groan.

"Now." I demanded. He stomped his feet dramatically down the hall as he went into the room he shared with Bambi.

"Daddy?" Bambi asked.

"Yes sweetheart."

"Where are you going today?" She asked while I frantically tried to fix up Oliver's lunch bag.

"I have a job interview."

"What's that?" She asked.

"Well, someone is going to ask me questions and if they like me I get to work for them so I can make money and buy you dolls." I tried to explain it so a six year old would understand, but I'm not sure if she got it.

"What do they make you do?"

"I have to do what ever they tell me to do." I smiled as I grabbed a string cheese and an orange and threw it into Oliver's lunch pale.

"Is it like when you and Daddy wrestle and he tells you to-"

"Oliver!" I yelled for my son with wide and panicked eyes. I was not about to have that conversation with my six year old daughter.

Are Harry and I really that loud?

Oh god.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts of that while Oliver walked into the room wearing sneakers, bright red basketball shorts and a green t shirt with the ninja turtles on it.

What did I tell you?

I knew my kids would have bad fashion sense!

And Oliver isn't even Harry's!

Which says a lot about me because I'm pretty sure Bambi will grow up and become a fashion artist.

"Is that what you're wearing?" I asked Oliver. I didn't mean to ask, but it kind of slipped.

"Got a problem?" He asked with attitude.

"Don't talk to me like that, I am your Dad."

"What ever." He rolled his eyes as he went for the front door.