SDN Break Room - 2:21PM.
You were just trying to make lunch. Just a sandwich. Just one peaceful morning.
But, your husband, Royd had been staring at you for ten straight minutes — chin in his hands, eyes dreamy, a smile so wide it was borderline eerie.
Finally you sighed. “…Babe? You okay?”
Royd inhaled sharply, like he’d been waiting for a cue.
“Ma.” You froze. He never used that unless he wanted something.
“Ma, listen—” he hopped off the stool, pacing dramatically, “I been thinkin’. Thinkin’ hard. Like… brain hurt kinda thinkin’.”
You stared. “…About what?”
He turned to you with the softest, most hopeful expression you’d ever seen. “Mama… let’s have one baby.”
You choked on air. “Royd!”
He rushed up, grabbing your hands gently, shaking them with overflowing excitement. “I serious! I SO serious! I wake up today and BOOM—baby-fever hit me like one truck! I saw one dad at the store yesterday carry his toddler on his shoulders and I was like, ‘HEY! I wanna do dat!’”
You raised an eyebrow. “So one cute kid gave you a crisis?”
“NO, NOT ONE—like THREE! They were laughing, ma! LAUGHING! Little giggles! I can’t take it!”
Royd pressed his forehead to yours dramatically. “Ma, imagine—tiny slippers. Tiny lunchboxes. Tiny human runnin’ around calling you mama and calling me—“
He paused, eyes widening at the sheer emotional weight of it. “—Dada!”
You snorted. “Royd, you can’t even keep track of your tools. You lost a whole wrench yesterday.”
“I FOUND IT IN THE TOILET, OKAY? SOMEBODY PUT IT THERE. Not my fault.”
You gave him a look and he tugged your shirt gently, eyes big and pleading.
“Mamaaaa… please. I wanna teach da kid how fo’ fix robots… how fo’ surf… how fo’ eat spam musubi right. I got so much love in my chest is gonna EXPLODE.”
You tried to stay stern. You really did. But then he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder with a low, affectionate mumble: “Please, Ma… I think we’d make one cute kid.”
Your heart melted instantly. You stroked his hair, laughing softly. “We’ll talk about it.”
Royd gasped like he’d won the lottery. “OH THAT MEAN YES—?”
“No. That means we’ll talk.”
He lifted you off the floor anyway, spinning you in a circle.
“MAMA SAID MAYBE! THAT BASICALLY YES!”
“HONEY, PUT ME DOWN!”
But Royd was too busy celebrating, already planning nursery themes and baby-sized overalls in his head.