Much Too Soon

Food for Late-Night Thought

For what felt like the hundredth time, Alm's slumber was disrupted by weak, shrill cries. The man groaned, turning onto his side. He then felt a hand pushing his shoulder.

"Alm," the woman next to him muttered. "It's your turn."

"Ugh... But what if he's hungry?" he asked as his lone pathetic attempt to drop his responsibility onto his lover.

He heard Celica huff in agitation. "Trust me, he's not. I fed him last time he was up."

Alm grunted and tossed his head back onto the pillow. Celica pushed against his arm again. "Alm," she said, more demanding this time.

When their son's cries seemed to sound even needier, Alm bit his tongue and propped himself up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he steadied himself onto his feet, Alm shivered upon feeling the contrast between his warm bed sheets and the cool night air. Although it didn't matter at the moment, the tired father made sure his footsteps were quiet as can be. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to wake himself up just a little bit more before tending to the crying child.

Standing before the wooden crib in the corner of the room, Alm set his hand on its side. He peered inside to see his son helplessly weeping. Laying on his back, the boy squirmed and held his arms in front of him, grasping at the air. His movements had messed up the previously neat blanket that was draped over his body. Sighing, Alm reached down and positioned his hands and forearms beneath the infant's head and torso. He brought the boy to his chest and immediately started stroking his head in an attempt to calm him down. The simple motion seemed to help whenever he was having a crying fit, so doing it was almost like instinct at this point.

The stroking did manage to soothe his son, but his cries were still rather loud. "Come on, Apollo, work with me."

It had only been a little less than a month since the night Apollo was born. In that short time, Alm and Celica learned just how tough parenthood could be. Apollo had been a very needy baby, wanting attention whenever he wasn't being fed or sleeping, and that meant making his parents lose out on a lot of much-needed sleep. Fortunately, Mycen had been more than willing to help them out with their usual chores. Their Grandfather was kind to make sure they didn't fall behind in work and Alm and Celica made sure to tell him how grateful they were. Although, despite his recent acts of kindness, Mycen had a different way of approaching help when it came to his new great-grandson.

He did love Apollo, there was no doubt about that. It was just that Mycen preferred using the "tough love" tactic when he was asked to help care for the child. He would babysit from time to time but would refuse to take up the responsibility when either Alm or Celica were able to do it instead. According to him, Alm and Celica needed to "act like parents" and not rely on others to take care of their own child.

Alm grumbled upon remembering what Mycen had told them. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Alm realized that he was out of his room. He must've wandered out while he was lost in thought. Another thing that caught Alm's attention was that his son's cries were softer than they were before. Figuring that his walking helped calm Apollo down, the young man continued his aimless journey through their home. When Apollo's weeping diminished into slight whimpers, Alm found themselves in the main room of the cottage.

"Alm? Is that you?"

Said man whipped his head around, only to see his grandfather standing by a doorway holding a ceramic cup in his hands. Alm released the breath he had been holding upon seeing the familiar face. "Yeah. Hey, Grandfather."

Mycen's eyes fell to the infant Alm held in his arms. "I guess I should be used to seeing you up this late by now," the older man said to himself, taking a sip from his mug.