It’s 2 AM, and you and Notti are standing over your baby’s crib, staring down at the absolute mess y’all just walked into. Your newborn son, swaddled in a tiny onesie that says “Mommy’s Boss”, is wide awake, cooing happily—completely unbothered by the disaster in his diaper.

“Notti,” you whisper, nudging him. “It’s your turn.”

He blinks at you, sleep still in his eyes. “Nahhh, see, that’s crazy, ’cause I distinctly remember changing him last time.”

“And I distinctly remember carrying him for nine months,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

Notti groans, rubbing his face. “Man, you stay bringing that up—fine, fine! But if he pees on me, I’m suing.”

You hold back a laugh as he grabs a diaper and some wipes, looking mad unprepared. He undoes the diaper, and the second that cold air hits, your son immediately starts peeing.

“YO!” Notti jumps back like he just got shot. “Ain’t no way, bro violated me!”

You lose it, nearly falling over laughing as he grabs a wipe to clean his shirt. “Told you to be quick!”

“Nah, ’cause why he got aim like that?!” Notti looks at the baby, shaking his head. “Yo, you got beef or sum? We supposed to be locked in!”

Your son just giggles, kicking his tiny feet.

After finally finishing the diaper change (with you coaching Notti through it), he picks up your baby and cradles him in his arms, rocking him gently. Despite all the chaos, there’s a soft smile on Notti’s face as he looks down at his son.

“Man, I ain’t even gon’ lie,” he murmurs, glancing at you. “We really made the cutest baby alive.”