“Aw, man. She needs to poop in the toilet. When’s that gonna be?” Dylan grumbled from the back seat.

I felt bad. I’d promised his favorite spaghetti tonight. “Well, first she has to finish learning to crawl, then walk, then start talking…I’m thinking maybe next year sometime. Sorry, bud.”

“It’s okay. I hope I never pooped like that. Yuck.”

I turned around to peek at him in the back and informed him, “You totally did poop like that.”

He scrunched up his face, then laughed. “Sorry, Mommy.”

“It’s all part of being a baby. We’ve all done it.”

He laughed harder at that thought. Why did kids find poop so funny? And butts. What was funny about butts?

There was nothing funny about Luke’s butt. Luke’s butt is fiiiine. I found my line of thinking bizarre. My mind wandering from blowout diapers to how hot Luke’s ass was. I shrugged and decided to just go with it.

“I can make spaghetti,” Luke volunteered with a smile.

I grinned back at him over the console and he tugged one of my curls.

“Yay! Can I help you?” Dylan asked.

Dylan never wanted to help me in the kitchen, unless it was tasting cookie dough or putting sprinkles on top of cupcakes. “Thank you, Luke.” I hopped out of the car to get the kids out. Luke beat me to Dylan’s side and helped him out of his booster seat, and I got a small blanket from Calla’s diaper bag, so I could wrap her up and avoid making a mess of myself when I picked her up. “My gosh, little girl. You sure are stinky.”

“How can something so foul come out of something so tiny and cute?” Luke asked as he looked over my shoulder at Calla. “Don’t worry about dinner, Lily. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of Dylan too. You just rid us of that stench.” He pushed my hair aside and bent down to kiss the side of my neck before heading to the front door to let us all inside.

I shivered. I could get used to this.

“Grandma fed her smashed-up avocados today. Calla gobbled them up like crazy. I wonder what she’ll poo out if you give her spaghetti?” Dylan asked.

I turned away from the car and shut the door. As I faced Dylan with Calla in my arms, he recoiled at the smell. So, I did what any responsible parent would do. I chased him up the driveway, brandishing his stinky little sister as a weapon.

Luke cracked up at our antics, then stepped aside, holding the door open for us to pass.