She tickles Olive’s belly, trying to get a laugh out of her. It’s both of our life goals to see how many laughs we can get from her, and right now, we’re tied.
“Hey, I can’t help if they make that thing like a Rubik's Cube for babies,” I lower my voice into a whisper, “Damn thing is complicated.”
Maddison laughs. “Briggs, it’s a onesie with a tutu. Look, these two snap together.” She brings the opposite end of what I was trying to fit together, and with a quick snap, she has the entire outfit on her. Correctly.
I groan, dropping onto the bed next to Olive, taking her little hand into mine. “Daddy loves you Olive drop. Just don’t leave me in charge of your pretty outfits, and everything will be fine.”
Her mama watches our exchange with her lip pulled between her teeth and a small smirk on her heart-shaped mouth that makes me want to kiss her senseless. The things I want to do to that mouth…I’m not even going to think about when Olive’s in the room.
Maddison’s headed to her six-week checkup with her doctor today and that means that Olive and I are going to hang out with Uncle Graham, Uncle Asher and Uncle Hudson today.
“Are you sure it’s okay if they come by?” I ask her for the millionth time. I want more than anything to bring up the topic of them coming to stay at my house, but I know Maddison, and the last thing I want to do is offend her or seem like I’m trying to bulldoze into their lives.
Maddison rolls her eyes while she slips her small, hooped earrings into her ears. Our gaze connects through the mirror in front of her bed. “Yes, it’s really no big deal. I just hate that my apartment is so… small. It feels like a shoebox when all of you are here.”
I can see the hesitation in her eyes. Before I talk myself out of it, I bring it up. “I was thinking… what if we, I don’t know, went to my house for a while?”
Her eyes dart back up to meet mine, and there’s hesitation. “Briggs…”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “It’s just an idea. Your maintenance man still hasn’t made it by, and it’s been weeks. I fixed the handle on the sink and fixed the seal on the window, just last week. I’m just saying, Mads, my house is huge, way more than I could ever hope to fill, and I don’t know, I think I’d like to have you both there.”
Maddison turns to face me, “That would complicate things, and we agreed to not do that, remember?”
I nod. “I do, but I also know that I want to do whatever I can to take care of Olive… and you. And I mean, I stay here, so we could all stay at my place just like we do here.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and her throat bobs as she swallows, then glances down at the watch on her wrist. “Can we talk about this when I get back? I have to go or I’m going to be late.”
“Sure. Be careful. Olive and I are going to hang out with Uncle Graham and Uncle Asher and Uncle Hudson and watch a game. Isn’t that right, my Olive girl?” I coo, rubbing my finger lightly against her cheek.
Looking up, I see Maddison’s face soften as she stares at the two of us. “Later? Okay? Thank you for hanging out with her while I go. Call me if you need anything, seriously, anything.”
“Mads, I’ve got it. Okay? Don’t worry.”
She nods nervously, before offering me a small smile, grabbing her purse and leaving me and Olive standing there watching her go.
“I don’t know if you know this, Olive, but your mama is a worry wart. We’ve got this, it’s only a few hours. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Oh my god. This is bad. So fucking bad.”
“I’m going to puke.”
“What do we do? Graham stop fucking gagging and help me. Graham!”
“Asher, clear the sink out. Hudson… Google it. No, pull up YouTube.”
For the record, everything is not fine. In fact, this is a fucking disaster.
“Dude, you have to call her.” Asher shakes his head, still plugging his nose.
“I am not fucking calling her. She’ll think I’m, no we’re all, incapable of taking care of Olive by ourselves.”
We are capable. More than capable. We’re grown-ass men, we play professional hockey in the most ruthless, competitive industry in the world, damnit!
Fuck, I don’t know if we’ve got this.
“I’m literally about to puke all over this carpet. Sorry Olive-you, but you stink,” Graham mutters. He’s clutching his stomach, and honestly, he does look a little green. Hell, we probably all do.
It was going fine. The guys and I were watching a game, Olive was playing on her little play mat in front of us that sings and lights up, and then… we smelled it.
At first, Asher said it was Hudson, and then Hudson said it was Graham, but really, it was Olive. We were all unsuspecting, and completely fooled by her baby laughs and coos.
Turns out, those tiny little diapers really don’t hold much shit at all. Literally. There was an explosion of epic proportions, and before I could even get her off the play-mat, she was somehow covered in it from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. Shit. Everywhere.
On her, the outfit, the play-mat, the carpet, even on me, and I’m an innocent bystander in all of this.
“Honestly, it’s a little alarming that someone so little can cause this much damage.” Graham looks at me in horror. “Briggs… I think it’s on the ceiling. How in the fuck did it get up there? Oh god, that’s it, I’m barfing.”
He runs out the front door like it’s on fire. I can hear him actually throwing up outside, and if everything in the room, including me and Olive, weren’t covered in shit, I’d probably laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation.
I take a figurative deep breath, since I can’t actually breathe in right now, and look at Asher. “I’m going to put her in the sink, go turn the water on and make sure it’s lukewarm, not hot. Hurry.”
He nods, and sprints toward the kitchen. I’m holding Olive out in front of me with extended arms, careful not to touch anything else, including myself, with her and her explosion.
“I’ll get a towel,” Hudson says.
Finally, one of them uses their brain.
“Alright Olive. Not going to lie, baby girl, you took us by surprise with this shit bomb, I mean, poop bomb. So, we’re going to have to take some drastic measures.”
Not that she has any actual idea what I’m saying, she’s just staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. It’s amazing how, in just under two months, she’s changed. Every day I think she looks more and more like Maddison, and every day, I fall more in love with her.
“Ready,” Asher calls from the kitchen.
I carry Olive through the living room into the kitchen, where Asher is waiting with the warm water running and the sink sprayer in hand.
“When in doubt, spray.”
“That’s not a thing.” I shake my head.
He shrugs. “It is a thing. I made it a thing.”
“Got it!” Hudson comes sliding into the kitchen with a towel and wash rag in hand, and then… we get to work.
Asher sprays Olive’s legs, and chunks of poop scatter in the sink, running in disgusting rivets down her legs, as he gags dramatically.