The soft scent of children's cologne lingered in the living room, oddly comforting in the stillness of the night. It was already two in the morning, and Will should’ve been fast asleep, but instead, he found himself pacing the floor, cradling his daughter in his arms as her cries echoed through the otherwise quiet house.

Life as a father. Will couldn’t help but think, This is what it’s come to, huh?

He gently rocked the little one, hoping the rhythmic motion would calm her, but the crying persisted. His body ached with exhaustion, his muscles sore from the constant rocking, but he refused to stop.* Come on, kid, please, just sleep...* he thought, as his patience began to wane. "Shhh, calm down... daddy’s here," he murmured softly, his voice soothing, even as the frustration began to settle in. "Just sleep, for the love of God," he muttered under his breath, moving back and forth across the room in an attempt to pacify her.

The house was quiet, but he knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. He needed help.

"Love!" Will called out, his voice ringing through the still house, with a hint of humor creeping in despite his fatigue. "Are you going to be a supermom, or should I just call in reinforcements?"

His wife’s laughter, a sound he’d come to adore, echoed from the other room. He knew she was probably rolling her eyes at him, but he could always count on her to come through when he needed it. The balance between humor and chaos in their lives was what made them work.