whoops, no prompt again, they’s coming, peeps. this is just a little funny in all the dark I posted yesterday and later today, so hang in there. I am just in love with this one.
« big hands »
It was the day Amelia suddenly realized why you don’t have adult conversations around children. And adult children, because they are just as bad, if not worse. Having promised Zola to pick her up from daycare – she’d come home the day before complaining how Callie promised to pick up Sofia and she wanted to have lunch at the cafeteria with her mommy like her – Meredith had surgery and delegated, so she’d volunteered to pick up her niece. Now, Zola was sitting on her lap trying to eat spaghetti and getting it mostly on her aunt’s scrubs, while Sofia was quietly munching on a sandwich on Callie’s lap.
Amelia loved her niece, she loved her to bits, but lunch like this was boring and unhygienic. She most likely would have to take a shower as soon as she was done. The corner of her lips tugged as she caught Owen’s eyes from across the room, in line to get lunch as well. Maybe she could kill two birds with a stone and get him in the shower with her, after all, she just needed to maneuver Zola on his lap for five minutes and he’d need one too. A soapy, wet Owen-filled post-lunch break was probably the best idea she’d ever had. All she had to do was make it through lunch and catch him as he was-
“You do know there are kids here, right?” came Callie’s voice, sounding like she was making a great effort not to laugh.
Amelia turned to her, confusion written all over her face as she wracked her brain to understand where Callie was getting, coming up empty. “Uh?”
Callie nodded where Amelia’s eyes had been previously planted. “Come on. You’ve been staring at Owen. He can’t possibly be that good.”