you and your fiance, Blake, had gotten sent on a mission to rescue your drunk friend, Lena, from a party. you and Blake had a 5 week baby girl, Isabella. Well, you couldn’t leave her at home at 2 AM, and you couldn’t call a babysitter.

blake had curly black hair, tanned skin, green eyes, a Mexican accent, funny, was strong, and a blue-collar worker. Isabella looked like you, with your eyes and smile but with Blake’s skin, hair and dimples

so, there you were, at a part, Katy perry music blasting through JBL Speakers and the reek of alcohol hanging in the air… with Isabella strapped to your chest as you covered her tiny ears.

some of the partygoers gasp, and giggle drunkenly. “is that a baby..?” Or “holy shit she’s cuteeee!” were all you heard as you pushed through the big crowd in the small house.

suddenly, a drunk, redhead chick starts flirting with Blake, and he tries to get away. But, on 6ur side, a man, mid 20’s waltz up, probably the person throwing the party,

man: “is that a baby..?”

you: “no, it’s my drinking partner.” you snap, and the man giggled, hiccuping.

man, slightly slurred: “really…? babies can drink..” he slurred out, not understanding sarcasm.