JB

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POV Bo.

"Jellybean!" I call from the couch flicking through the trash on TV. I shuddered my face scrunched with dissatisfaction as I quickly passed over American Lip Sync Battles. What has entertainment come to? I shook my head with disapproval.

"Dad I told you to call me JB!" Jellybean growled as she walked into the room. Oh shit I forgot! She told me last week she wants to start going by JB instead of Jellybean. Apparently it sounds 'cooler'. I mentally scoffed rolling my eyes. She's 5 years old and listens to 80's rock music on vinyl. I don't think she can get any cooler.

"Sorry I forgot." I held my hands up in defense. "Can you go grab me some Pringles?" I pleaded. I smiled as her light blue eyes fell into a hard glare. At least she got her mothers hair.

"I had to pause Mortal Kombat to get you Pringles?!" She threw her arms up in defeat stomping dramatically into the kitchen.

"Shhh!" I hushed her. "Your moms not supposed to know I let you play that."

"Play what?" I froze as Alana fell onto the couch beside me. I turned to see her giving me a scrutinizing glare.

"Nothing." I quickly defended.

"Mortal Kombat!" Jellybean yelled from the kitchen.

"Bo!" Alana gasped.

"Blake Marie Burnham!" I scolded. That's the last time I sneak that gremlin any games!

"I told you she shouldn't play that! It has way to much gore and all the women are practically naked." Alana chastised her brows farrowed.

"Sonya Blade isn't." Jellybean corrected her comment going unnoticed.

"But you let her listen to Back off Bitch by Gun's N' Roses." She paused for a moment her glare softening her lips quirking upward.

"Tushay bitch." She admits defeatedly. Jellybean brings me a can of Pringles before turning back toward her room.

"Wait Jell- I mean JB!" I called stoping her. She groaned loudly turning to face me.

"What?" She whined.

"Can you grab them?" I knew the answer to my question before I asked it but it's worth a shot. I can barley get my hand 4 inches into the can it's so small. The diameter of a Pringles can is WAY to small.

"You want me to feed you too?!" She exclaims disbelief in her voice. "Do it yourself cromagnon." She grumbled running back to her room. Alana and I turned to each other both shocked our mouths agape. How the fuck does she know what that means?! She's five!

"Did you teach her that?" We both asked the other at the same time. Alana shook her head the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"She's growing up so fast." I nodded in agreement. I think my 5 year old is more mature than me and I'm 28. God help us.

-The End-

A/N: hope you enjoyed because I did.

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