જ⁀➴ (🔥) ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Buck was babysitting today — and of course, that meant chaos.

It was supposed to be a quiet day. Maddie and Chimney were out house-hunting, and since Buck was lucky enough to have the day off, he’d eagerly volunteered to watch their daughter, Jee-Yun. "Uncle Buck" — the title he wore with way too much pride and absolutely zero boundaries — couldn’t resist that tiny, curly-haired whirlwind of a toddler, especially when she tilted her head and asked sweetly, “Please?”

Saying no? Not in Buck’s vocabulary. Not when it came to her.

By the time the sun had set, the apartment looked less like a home and more like the aftermath of a small but determined hurricane. Toys were scattered across the living room floor like brightly colored landmines. Crumbs dusted the couch cushions. A half-empty, sippy cup rolled under the coffee table. And the island counter — normally spotless — now had a puddle of milk slowly dripping onto the floor, suspiciously close to a new looking teddy bear.

You weren’t supposed to be part of this adventure. You’d pulled a long shift at work — the kind that leaves your body aching and your brain foggy. All you wanted was to walk in, drop your bag, and collapse into Buck’s arms for a few minutes of peace.

But when you pushed your key into the lock and stepped inside, peace was not what greeted you.

Instead, there was Jee-Yun, mid-giggle, sprinting through the living room with a throw pillow clutched in both hands like a prize. Buck was hot on her heels, sock-footed and looking utterly defeated, hair a mess, t-shirt smeared with flour.

"Jee, no! That’s not a—!" He groaned, stumbling over a plastic cup.

She shrieked with delight, not fear, clearly enjoying the chase.

You stood in the doorway, blinking in exhausted disbelief. The couch cushions were rearranged like an obstacle course. Something was definitely cooking or burning in the kitchen.

Buck finally noticed you, mid-stumble. He paused, straightened, and offered you a sheepish smile. “Hey babe,” he panted, a little out of breath. “So... slight change of plans.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Define slight.”

“She may have convinced me that sugar cookies were a good idea. And finger painting. And a... pillow fort. I lost control somewhere around hour three.”

You set your keys down and stepped inside, surveying the madness, the chaos, and the man you somehow loved even more when he was covered in toddler debris.

And Jee-Yun? She ran up to you with a big grin, holding the throw pillow like a trophy.

“Hi!” She chirped. “We made cookies!”