"PETE!" I yanked the bag of flour from his hands for the seventh time and brushed off his hands. Flour floated to the ground and coated the tiles.
"Whaaattt?" He whined, his face covered in the white powder. I picked up his left hand and dusted flour off of his ring with an annoyed look.
"I spent money on that ring you shit, stop getting crap in it," I scolded.
My husband grinned cheekily and kissed my cheek. "Sorry baby."
"Whatever, now help me bake this fucking cake."
"What is it even forrrrrrr?" He groaned, dropping to the floor and curling into a ball. Sighing, I kicked him and knelt down beside him.
"For your daughters birthday, now come on."
He immediately jumped up at my words, standing up straight. "Maggie's birthday? We have to get this done!"
I smiled at his enthusiasm and turned back to the bowls. "Good, now hand me that sugar and then get the frosting out of the fridge."
"Okie dokie." He began hurrying around like a little mouse, some turns sticking his fingers in the batter, sometimes wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing himself against my back. It was adorable really, seeing how one sentence could make him go nuts. He really did love her.
Once we put the pan in the oven I set the timer and sat down on the ground, patting the tile next to me. He plopped down to where I was patting, looking at me with big puppy eyes. "I wish we had enough money to have a party for her."
"Me too, Pete, me too."
~
The little girl with dark curls came running around the corner, a gigantic grin plastered across her face. "Daddy? Other dad?"
"Happy birthday!" We chorused together, holding our arms out.
