“Addy.” I push her hands off my face and resist the urge to hit her with my pillow. But, seeing as she’s only five, I feel like society and her mother might frown upon that kind of thing. “We have to find a new wake-up technique. You’re going to give me crow’s-feet.”

Her mouth purses and her little nose scrunches, giving her these wrinkles on the top of her nose that are adorable now but might make her consider Botox in about thirty years. I don’t tell her that. “You’ll get a birdie’s feet?” Her voice is a screech, and she honestly sounds appalled. “What happens to the rest of the bird? How will it land with no feet?”

“Oh my god.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her down to me, covering her chubby cheeks with kisses until she squeals. “This is why I’m obsessed with you,” I shout over her peals of laughter before sitting up with her and ignoring the slight pounding against my skull. “Crow’s-feet aren’t birds. They’re the little lines around eyes that make your grandma Keane always look so sleepy and old.”

“Oooh.” She nods, but I’m pretty sure she still has no idea what I’m talking about.

“Yup.” I crawl out from under the duvet I spent way too much money on, but photographs like a dream, and climb over the boxes I have yet to unpack. “And you don’t want Auntie Jude to look like Old Grandma Keane, do you?”

Instead of answering and then apologizing profusely for endangering my skin, she shrugs, and I’m pretty she couldn’t actually give a fuck. Rude. “Are you going to eat pancakes with me?”

“No pancakes for me.” I grab her hand and walk with her down the stairs of our new townhome. “Repeat after me: carbs are evil.”

“Carbs are evil,” she mimics. For a five-year-old, she follows direction beautifully.

“Carbs are not evil,” Lauren says from somewhere. And even though I can’t see her, I know she’s glaring at me.

But whatever, sue me. Someone needs to teach kids the importance of diet. That high metabolism and glowing skin they are unfairly blessed with aren’t going to last forever.

“Mommy!” Adelaide drops my hand like a bad habit and takes off running to the table, where a plate of cut-up pancakes is waiting for her, complete with eggs and a healthy serving of fruit. “Wanna know what Jude taught me?”

Lauren walks around the corner, a coffee mug to her lips, looking way too hot in her mom pajamas and headscarf. The glare I knew she had is directed at me before she drops it and aims a bright smile at Addy. “Sure, baby.”