Life Changes

7. I've Been Trying To Fix My Pride, But That Shit's Broken

Harry hated himself for saying it, but Louis was right once again.

Running a baby was not like running a bakery as it seemed so hard to believe. Harry thought that since he was experienced with waking up at unforgiving hours of the morning, it would give him an advantage to this whole raising a baby ordeal.

A baker's typical day went something like this. It started bright and early, Harry usually waking up before 4 a.m. so he could get to the shop and start preparing the day's bakery products by 5 a.m. Harry first started off by sanitizing the kitchen and preparing the dough for sweet bread and biscuits for the early risers that loved to stop by for freshly baked biscuits. Then, he would clean out the baking bins and complete an inventory of the goods he needed to bake. Once that was done, he would begin to mix the ingredients needed for the products such as whole grains and cheese for scones.

Normally, Harry would have called in the other bakers to help him out a long time ago, but ever since that one incident where James burnt a fresh batch of paleo banana bread which had customers complaining mercilessly for restless days, he didn't think he would start calling them anytime soon. Plus, he took pride in lifting all the heavy work and preened under the attention he received from people commending him for his hard efforts.

So it was only common sense that Harry's hectic early morning schedule would make him believe he would have no problem startling awake to put a fussy Isabella back to sleep no matter if it was at the crack of dawn. Harry was hilariously wrong. Isabella's sleep schedule was all over the place. And even though Louis and Harry split the days evenly, Harry found himself tackling on more morning duties than usual. However, Louis was lifting up his side of the work too.

Maybe it was because Harry had pride. Or because he was trying to prove to a point. Or because he felt bad when Louis stumbled into Isabella's room in a half-zombie state with his shirt crumpled and pillow creases littered on his cheeks.

Nonetheless, Harry was tired. Not to mention that his skin had gotten paler and dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. Harry felt like the days were getting away from him in a scurry.

Louis and Harry finally tacked up a chart with a schedule figured out that worked for both of them, orange and yellow sticky notes with designated times and Remind Me's taped to most of the days; orange for Harry and yellow for Louis.

A lot of things happened over the course of a few months.

Louis hadn't mastered the art of changing nappies, for starters. He always doused Isabella's bare bottom and nappy with too much white baby powder, enough to wipe off her clean, natural baby smell.

Louis and Harry would end up bickering over the calendar days lightheartedly, Louis pushing Harry away by a hand on his face and Harry cackling like a hyena in the background.

Showertime consisted of Louis holding Isabella up while Harry showered her off with an adjustable shower head, spraying Louis while he was at it. Louis would laugh, "Okay! Can you get the baby? Alright!" while Harry chose to ignore him and continue to hose him down, a smile always playing on his raspberry tainted lips.

Louis would agree happily to take Isabella to Whole Foods to buy groceries. All kinds of unimaginable tastes were awaiting their arrival in the aisle of Gerber food, flavors ranging from sweet potatoes to chicken & rice. Louis would uncap each bottle for Isabella to sniff, Isabella nodding if she approved or shaking her head if she disapproved. Good method, innit? Harry would always beg Louis to bring home the bananas kind and Louis would always forget them on purpose. Louis knew Harry would eat them for himself instead of feeding them to Isabella, the dumb, adorable weirdo.