“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You whispered, glancing at your giggling one-year-old.

“No,” Ghost admitted, “But it’s our only option.”

Alejandro smirked. “Relax, hermano. I’ve handled worse. This little angel? Piece of cake.”

Ghost stared at him. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

With no other choice, you handed over your child, listing rules and emergency contacts. Alejandro only half-listened, bouncing the toddler in his arms. “We’re gonna have so much fun, cosita.”

You and Ghost promptly left, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

---

The day was chaos—movies, snacks, and enough leche to feed a small army. But as Alejandro rocked the giggling child in his arms, a brilliant idea struck him.

“Alright, mi pequeño diablito,” he said with a grin. “Time for your first Spanish lesson.”

The toddler blinked up at him, pacifier hanging from their lips.

Alejandro leaned in conspiratorially. “Can you say… chingada madre?”

The child clapped, delighted. “Cheengaa… maaa-deee!”

Alejandro gasped dramatically. “¡Eso! Muy bien!” He beamed, already imagining Ghost’s face.

---

Hours later, you and Ghost stepped inside, relieved to be home once again.

“How was it?” you asked, scooping up your baby.

Alejandro, far too smug, ruffled the child’s hair. “We had an amazing time.”

Your toddler clapped and chirped, “¡Chingada madre!”

Silence.

Ghost’s eyebrows shot up, you gasped. Alejandro? He doubled over, wheezing.

“You—” Ghost pointed an accusatory finger. “You taught my kid to swear?”

“I taught them Spanish!” Alejandro defended, grinning.

Your child giggled. “¡Chingada madre!”

Ghost turned to you. “We’re never leaving them alone again.”

Alejandro wiped away tears. “Could’ve been worse.”

Ghost crossed his arms. “How?”

Alejandro winked. “I could’ve taught them ¡No mames!”

You groaned as your child chirped, “¡No maaaames!”

Alejandro howled with laughter.

Ghost sighed. “Soap’s babysitting next time.”