Chris opened the front door while awkwardly juggling the three grocery bags in his arms. He stepped into the house and nudged the door closed with his backside, ever mindful of the bags in his arms. With a quiet cheer, he quickly strode further into the house. But he froze bodily when he laid eyes on the kitchen; or what was left of it.
The kitchen… looked like a nuclear food bomb had exploded in it. There was food everywhere.
In his high chair was baby Des, who had food smeared all over his face and hands and was enthusiastically banging his sippy cup on the tray of the chair. Sitting opposite him was what used to be the immaculate James. His carefully styled blond hair was covered with what looked like grape jelly and pancake bits, and on his cheek was a large smear of peanut butter.
Chris watched as Des reached out with his spoon, insisting on feeding James, yet when the blond leant in the boy smacked him in the forehead with the spoon, leaving a trail of grape jelly to slide down his nose. The indignant expression on James’ face was priceless.
Dropping the bags in his arms and sending groceries rolling across the floor, Chris clutched his stomach as he let out a belly laugh so hard that tears slid down his face. James huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t care if you’re my best friend; I’m never babysitting for you again.”