“you’re late again.” you say flatly, picking up his baby girl from the pack and play by the daycare desk. she’s a newborn, her mom left her and steve as soon as she healed from her c-section. he’s got a good job, makes good money, but he knows nothing about babies. he’s frazzled. stressed beyond belief. he pushes his hair out of his face and rolls up his sleeves. “i know, im so sorry, got caught in a meeting, it won’t happen again.” he says. you sigh. he said that last week. “steve?” you ask. he looks up. “do you have any help?” he bites his lip, then shakes his head. “i thought i’d adjust, you know? robin thinks i need to hire a nanny. someone who can live with us for a while. but i wanted to do it on my own.” he says. he takes the baby, and she coos at him happily.