Page 28 of Dreams Do Come True
I put everything on the dining table, except Kean’s bag and the toys, which I leave in the hall, and then start unpacking the food bags, putting everything away, before putting the coffee machine on. I get out the new baby bits, especially the sterilising machine and read the instructions. I put everything we need to wash before using into the sink, then I pick River up, still in his child seat, sleeping away and go and hunt Kean and Lyric down. I find the French doors open and them outside.
I love the outside space. It was once a large garden and has now been split into four, so we all have a decent outside space. My flat and the other ground-floor flat have gardens off our lounges. The two top flats have the two outer gardens. The garden has grass, a patio and flower borders. Thankfully, I have a gardener who looks after everything.
I put River down on the coffee table and look outside. Lyric is toddling around laughing, and Kean pretends to chase him.
I grab my phone, take a couple of pictures and then video them.
Lyric falls on the grass, and Kean is there in an instant, kneeling next to him.
“Oh no! The mean grass,” he says, picking Lyric up and putting him back on his feet. Kean then points a finger at the grass. “Now listen here, bad grass. You play nice with Lyric, or I’ll pee on you.”
Lyric laughs. “Oh no,” he mimics and points to the grass. “Bad ass.”
“Grass,” Kean corrects, trying not to laugh.
Lyric nods. “Ass.”
I snort out a laugh, and Kean looks up, grinning. “You’re filming this?”
“Oh yeah. The mean ass sure knows better now,” I say, still laughing.
“Tus,” Lyric says, tottering over to me.
I pick him up one-handed. “Hey, little man.”
He points to the grass. “Bad ass.”
“Bad grass,” I correct.
Lyric nods. “Bad ass.”
“Give it up, honey, it’s now bad ass,” Kean says, walking over and dropping a kiss on Lyric’s head and my lips.
We hear a noise from inside.
“River’s waking up,” I say.
“Then let’s go and see him,” Kean replies, as we turn and walk inside.
River is making soft, disgruntled noises, so Kean takes him out of the car seat and hugs him. “Need a clean nappy, Baba?”
“His baby bag is on the dining room table,” I tell him. “I’ll get the changing mat from the baby box.”
We all walk into the dining room, and I put Lyric down and open the box and hunt through, pulling out some nappies, wipes, some cream, the changing mat and nappy sack.
“It really does have everything,” Kean says, looking inside.
“Yep. Do you want to change him here or in the bedroom?”
“The bedroom. Not sure it’s sanitary to use the dining table,” Kean says, picking up the nappies and cream.
I pick up the nappy sacks and hand them to Lyric. “Can you carry these?”
Lyric nods and takes them, while I pick up the changing mat and wipes.
We walk into my bedroom. I lay the mat down, then pick Lyric up and put him on the bed, while Kean puts River down and starts changing his nappy.
I see Lyric hold his nose.
