Stephen had survived the first wave—the baby horde. He had even, against all odds, enjoyed himself.
But he had no idea what fresh horrors awaited him next.
Because now, the adults had arrived.
_ _ ♛ _ _
The moment it started, Stephen knew he was in trouble. He was still basking in his minor victory over the baby war zone when a pair of enormous hands lifted him into the air.
"Oh my goodness! He's adorable!"
A woman's face, large and smiling, filled his vision.
Who? What? No! Put me back!
Stephen wiggled in protest, but it was no use. The woman cooed, pinching his cheek. Pinching! His sacred baby cheek!
"Oh, he's got such chubby little cheeks, doesn't he?" another voice chimed in. Before he could process what was happening, he was passed to another pair of hands. Another person?!
"Look at those big eyes! He's going to be such a heartbreaker when he grows up."
Ma'am, I am in distress!
Then, the worst happened.
Fingers.
Pinching.
Squeezing.
Everywhere.
Stephen flailed, but his baby limbs were useless against the tidal wave of overly affectionate adults. One after another, they took turns holding him, pinching his cheeks, bouncing him on their knees like he was some sort of circus attraction.
He searched frantically for help, for an escape, for someone who could end this madness.
Then, salvation appeared.
His father. Tall. Strong. The ultimate authority in the house.
Stephen stretched his tiny arms toward him, silently pleading.
Nolan met his gaze.
And then… turned around and walked away.
Stephen's soul left his body.
Betrayal. The ultimate betrayal.
He barely had time to process his father's utter abandonment before another set of hands snatched him up.
"Oh, he's got such soft little curls!"
Someone booped his nose.
Stephen had never known true suffering until this moment.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Outside, Nolan had barely taken a step before he was intercepted.
"Alright, Nolan, we need you at the grill," one of the dads said, clapping him on the back.
Nolan exhaled slowly. "Debbie can handle it."
Another dad laughed. "Yeah? You wanna tell the moms you're skipping out on grill duty?"
Nolan hesitated. He glanced toward the house, toward the scene of his son's distress.
Then he sighed.
He did not want smoke with the moms.
"Fine."
And with that, he allowed himself to be dragged to the backyard, leaving Stephen to his fate.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Stephen had had enough.
He had been pinched. Cooed at. Tickled.
His baby patience had run out.
Escape was now his only option.
The moment the woman holding him got distracted, he launched himself out of her arms. Or, well, he tried. His tiny body only managed an awkward squirm, which resulted in him landing unceremoniously on the carpet.
"Oops! Looks like someone wants to move!"
Stephen was already crawling at top speed. He had to get away before they caught him again.
But the problem was… he was a baby. And babies were slow.
Too slow.
A hand scooped him up before he could reach the doorway. "Where do you think you're going, little guy?"
He let out a dramatic wail of despair.
There was no escape.
_ _ ♛ _ _
The torment continued for what felt like hours. His cheeks had been pinched more times than he could count, his hair ruffled beyond recognition. He had been passed around like a prized possession, every adult cooing over him like he was some kind of baby celebrity.
Finally, he reached his breaking point.
Summoning every ounce of dramatic baby energy within him, Stephen let out a wail so piercing, so desperate, that the entire room paused.
"Oh no, I think he's overstimulated," one of the moms said.
Overstimulated?! Lady, I am being emotionally and physically assaulted by loving hands!
Debbie swooped in, finally rescuing him from his captors. As she held him against her chest, he let out a deep, exhausted sigh.
"Rough day?" she murmured, amusement in her voice.
Stephen, barely able to lift his head, sighed dramatically.
The roughest.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Meanwhile, outside, the dads were gathered around the grill, flipping burgers and exchanging exaggerated stories of fatherhood.
"I swear, my kid eats like a vacuum," one of them laughed.
"Mine just discovered the toilet. That was a disaster."
Nolan stood among them, listening, occasionally nodding, but his eyes wandered back toward the house.
He had seen Stephen's desperate little crawl toward him.
And he had done nothing.
A part of him almost felt guilty. Almost.
But another part of him, the one that had learned over the years that happy wife meant happy life, knew that grill duty was the better option.
Still, as he flipped a burger, he made a mental note to give Stephen an extra few minutes in the sun later.
Consider it father-son bonding—or an apology.
End of Chapter 7