[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅Keifer's POV)̲̅$̲̅]
I woke up with my arm completely numb, pinned under the weight of my favorite little tyrant. The sun was streaming in, and for a second, I just held my breath, waiting to see which version of Jay Jay would open her eyes.
She didn't wake up with a snuggle.
She didn't even say good morning. She just blinked, looked at me with a face as flat as a pancake, and marched herself into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, heart hammering, until she walked back out, wrapped in a towel and looking like she was about to deliver a formal execution order.
"Keifer. Sit. Now," she commanded, pointing at the bed like I was a golden retriever who'd just chewed up a slipper.
I sat. I didn't even question it. I was so happy to hear that bossy edge back in her voice I would have sat on a bed of nails if she told me to.
She climbed up behind me, shoved the comb into my hand, and turned her back. "You'm are doing my hair. And listen to me, you big rock-man," she said, her voice dropping into a deadly serious, high-pitched whisper. "If you pull even one tiny strand... if you make me go 'ouch' even a little bit... I am going to tell the mailman you wear pink polka-dot underwear. I will tell the whole world you cry during cartoons about puppies. You'm will be a social pariah, Keifer. Do you understand?"
I bit my lip so hard to keep from laughing that it actually stung. My eyes blurred with tears—not because I was scared of the mailman, but because she was back. The drama, the ridiculous threats, the utter naughtiness of her.
"I understand, Boss," I managed to say, my voice thick with a grin. "Not one pull. I promise."
"Good. Because if you do, I'm gonna put a curse on your coffee," she continued, her head bobbing as she spoke. "Every time you take a sip, it's gonna taste like wet socks. For a hundred years. And I'm gonna hide your left shoes. Only the left ones. You'm gonna have to hop to work like a giant, angry bunny."
I started combing, my hands moving with the gentleness of a man handling ancient silk. She was so tiny in front of me, her neck so pale and soft, yet she was sitting there like a queen on a throne, threatening to turn me into a hopping bunny.
"More spray," she ordered, snapping her fingers. "I don't want to smell like a human. I want to smell like a magical garden that a fairy just sneezed on. Go on. Spray it."
I coated her hair in the floral detangler, laughing silently as she crinkled her nose.
God, she was cute. Even when she was being a total menace, even when she was telling me she'd ruin my life with glitter and wet-sock coffee, she was the most precious thing I'd ever seen.
I looked at her through the vanity mirror, watching her watch me. She had her arms crossed, her bottom lip stuck out just enough to be dangerous.
Please, let our daughter be exactly like this, I prayed to whatever god was listening. Give me a little girl who threatens me with imaginary curses. Give me a Xerox copy of this beautiful, naughty, dramatic marshmallow. I want two of them. I want to spend my whole life being bossed around by two Jay Jays.
"You'm smiling, Keifer," she narrowed her eyes at me in the reflection. "Why you'm smiling? Is there a knot? If there's a knot and you'm smiling about it, I'm gonna bite your elbow so hard you'll forget your middle name."
"No knots, baby," I chuckled, my eyes shining with joy as I started the first braid. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a boss as scary as you."
"Hmph. You better be," she muttered, finally leaning back against my chest with a tiny, satisfied wiggle.
I couldn't help myself. Watching her sit there with her nose in the air, acting like a tiny, terrifying CEO of my life, I felt a surge of pure mischief. I finished the second braid, but instead of stopping, I reached into the little basket on the nightstand and pulled out a tiny, bright pink satin bow—one that was definitely too "cutesy" for the serious, threatening image she was trying to project.
I carefully clipped it right on the top of her head, right between her ears, like a cherry on top of a very grumpy sundae.
I waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Her eyes went wide, then narrowed into tiny, dangerous slits. She looked like a kitten that had just been told it was actually a hamster.
"Keifer," she said, her voice dropping into a low, dramatic vibrate. "What... is... this?"
"It's a bow, Jay Jay. You look like a very polite marshmallow," I teased, my chest heaving with silent laughter as I watched her reflection.
She spun around so fast I almost dropped the comb.
"A polite marshmallow?! You'm have ruined my street cred, Keifer! How can I be a scary boss with a pink cloud on my head? Now the squirrels won't respect me! They'm gonna laugh at me and throw acorns at my dignity!"
I lost it. I let out a loud, joyous laugh, and she didn't miss a beat. She lunged forward, her little face scrunched up in a "ferocious" expression, and clamped her teeth down on my shoulder. It wasn't a real bite—it was a soft, cute nip through my shirt, her way of showing me she was still a wild animal despite the satin bow.
"I'm biting you!" she muffled against my skin, her teeth grazing my muscle. "I'm eating your shoulder for dinner! You'm gonna be a one-armed donkey and I'm gonna tell everyone the bow did it! The bow is a cursed assassin!"
I just sat there, grinning like a fool, my eyes welling up with tears of joy. She was hanging off my shoulder, growling like a tiny puppy, her pink bow bobbing with every "vicious" shake of her head.
God, she's perfect, I thought, reaching up to rub her back while she "devoured" me. If our daughter has even half of this drama, half of this fire, I'm going to be the happiest man in existence.
I could see it so clearly—a tiny girl with a matching bow, biting my other shoulder, both of them teaming up to make sure I never had a peaceful, boring moment again.
"Okay, okay! The assassin bow wins!" I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into a massive hug. "I surrender to the marshmallow boss!"
"You'm better surrender," she huffed, finally letting go of my shoulder and looking at me with a satisfied, toothy grin. "Now... where is my star-shaped waffle? If it's a circle, I'm gonna put a bow on your forehead while you're sleeping."