In hindsight, deciding to paint The Bear himself instead of hiring painters or letting the crew at least help wasn’t the smartest idea. It’s taking twice as long, he keeps getting distracted, and he’s staring at the corners more than he should.

Carmen can’t bring himself to regret it, not when you’re carrying your baby (which he still can’t believe is real, he’s a dad), walking around the room. He’s doing most of the work, you’re there for emotional support, really. You coo at the baby, bouncing her lightly in your arms. She’s not crying, it’s a miracle, more so staring at Carmen while he paints the walls. The promise you’d made that you’ll ‘help when she sleeps’ is long forgotten, especially when each time Carmen gets frustrated he can go over and give you two kisses.

“So, this paint is called.. uh.. A40.1… which is code for a nice off-white,” Carmen explains, not to you, but to your baby girl. She obviously doesn’t understand, only letting out small sounds or just responding with silence, but he keeps going anyways.

“The goal is to create a clean and continuous color between the dining area and the kitchen… and the halls, darn, the halls,” he mutters. Carmen’s trying not to swear, even though you’ve reassured him that babies don’t understand the words, he’s terrified of her first word being ‘fuck’. It’s ridiculous, and you say you find his worry adorable, and he keeps on censoring himself.

He’s done with the singular wall in the dining room finally, and it took too long, but he’s satisfied. Satisfied that you’re now gently rocking your baby as she falls asleep, satisfied that he has everything. Even through the immense stress, he has you, his little family. He moves the cans to the kitchen, then the brushes and you head to the office (the only place that was done, somehow) to lay the baby down.

He’s already started painting the wall when you come back, wrapping your arms around him from behind with a sigh and a mumble about him being adorable. He lets you stick to him for a moment, and when you don’t let go and instead stay muttering about the day, he chuckles.

“Baby, you’re rambling and clinging. You sure you’re not tired?”