Page 22 of Dreams Do Come True

We catch a little sleep, but neither of us fell into a deep one. I was afraid that if I slept, the boys would vanish, and we would still be on our adoption journey. As it is, if what Justin says is true, it will only take a few days for the paperwork to be processed.

River starts to fuss, and before I can move, Kean is up and picking up the baby. “Morning, Baba, did you have good dreams?” As he’s talking, he un-swaddles River and drops the blanket in the cot. “Shall we change your nappy and give you your bottle?”

I walk over and touch River’s head. “And just think, daddy’s changing your nappy,” I stroke his hand, and he grabs my finger. “Ten points if your pee hits daddy’s nose.”

Kean snorts out a laugh. “River only gets one surprise attack, don’t you, Baba. Don’t listen to papa, he’s a meanie.”

Kean moves over to the changing table, and I walk to the bed to see Lyric, who is just waking up.

I sit on the side of the bed. “Morning, little man,” I stroke his head, and Lyric gets up and crawls onto my lap.

“Tus,” he says, leaning against me.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?”

He looks up and nods. “Duce.”

“Good choice,” I pull his bag closer and look inside to see two juice boxes and a couple of sippy cups. “Orange or apple?”

“Apple pees,” Lyric says.

“Good choice.” I pull out the apple juice and a sippy cup. I remember that Sal, Jude, and Emily watered down Connie’s juice. So, I half fill the cup. “Stay here while I put some water in here.”

“Down,” Lyric says, pointing to the floor.

The door is shut and there isn’t anything he can break, so I pick him up and sit him on the floor.

I take his drink into the bathroom and add some water before screwing the lid on and walking back to the bedroom.

Lyric is toddling over to Kean. I watch as he grabs Kean’s leg with one hand and raises his other. “Five,” he says.

Laughing and with a hand on River, Kean bends down, his hand up. “High five,” he says, tapping Lyric’s hand.

They both laugh.

I walk over and pick Lyric up, handing him his cup. “Are you high-fiving Kean?”

He nods. “Clean. Five.”

“Yep, you and Kean high-fived.”

He sips his drink, resting against me.

Kean tidies up the dirty nappy and wipes and puts it in the little sack, then he picks River up. “Now you’re clean, Baba, shall we find you a bottle? Be back in a minute, honey,” he says to me, opening the door and walking out with River. River looks so small when Kean is holding him.

For River’s last feed, Jess showed us where the kitchen was, stocked with everything needed for making up baby bottles.

Lyric stops drinking. “Clean?” he asks, looking at the door.

“He’s gone to get your brother his bottle; he’ll be back. In the meantime, how about if we give you a bath, dress you, then feed you?”

Lyric nods.

I should have realised Lyric was planning something. I took his sleep suit off and his nappy, which was thankfully only filled with pee, and put him in the bath water. I made sure the water wasn’t deep; it barely covered his legs, and I made sure it had bubbles.

Considering the amount of water there wasn’t in the bath, I get soaked. Lyric has fun splashing as hard as he can, both with his legs and little hands. He’s giggling so much that I don’t have the heart to stop him.

“How about we wash you before you drown me in bath water?” I ask him, smiling.