Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
How I only got the job because of who my husband is.
That we only won the title because of our connection to Ava Danielson.
That my dress showed too much skin for a rhino conversation gala – you know because the rhinos got together and voted my tits were distracting from their cause.
Even without Monica Simmons purposelessly polluting the press anymore – she now does exposés to reveal the dark underbelly of somewhat obscure industries like illegal bee breeding – they still come after me.
Putting me down.
Putting our family down.
Thankfully, at least one person in my life – aside from Wes and Puppet Boy – really understands the bullshit and that’s because she’s lived it much longer.
And truthfully?
Much harder.
Being a high-profile celebrity dancer, choreographer, and twin sister to one of the NBA’s hottest as well as most notoriously single power forwards in the league comes with a never-ending spotlight, I’m pretty sure I’d die under.
Like an epaulette shark that’s been walking around on land for a little too long.
“Monder,” Wy repeats, this time nodding as though he can hear the thoughts I’m thinking. His tiny, light, yellow brown chin kicks the direction of the soccer mom in training prior to him repeating. “Monder.”
“She is a monster,” I quietly concur with my toddler, pride that he’s on my side piercing through my crystal stare. “Like focus on your own fun fiasco over there, right?”
“Wight.”
Another head bounce of approval is exchanged between us before I resume our heated discussion. “This is the way your body should go when you’re in a swing.”
Our mini – because who he’s more like varies by the activity – tilts his head in obvious disagreement. “No.”
“When you sit like this,” my hand gestures across my form, “it’s safer.”
The rebellious nature I undoubtedly know he got from me flickers in his own blue glare. “No wanna.”
Yeah, well, I don’t wanna go to all his school shit alone, yet I have to.
We all have to do shit we don’t want to do.
That’s just fucking life.
“You could get hurt if you do it a different way, Little Fins.”
Rather than heed my warning, he chooses to demonstrate to anyone and everyone watching that it’s my genetics flowing through his system.
He maintains eye contact.
Steps forward.
Slowly descends himself to his stomach, daring me to stop him.
But I won’t.
Because my mom didn’t.
Apparently, when you birth a rebel you’ve just gotta let them figure shit out on their own.
“Okay.” I indifferently shrug. “Don’t come crying to me when you get an ouchie.”
Wy cockily extends his arms out in front of him and drops his too-large-for-his-frame head forward, clearly ready to watch his frantic, Batman Chuck covered foot movements. They hastily travel across the ground to give him the momentum needed to sway at the same time I clamp my mouth shut in preparation for the inevitable.
First and foremost…physics is a bitch.
Plain and simple.
His plan?
Won’t work until he understands that.
Respects her.
Second?
Even if he did understand the basic principles afoot, there are still a number of things that could go wrong, starting with the fact, he could step on his own untied shoelace – that he ‘tied’ himself – resulting in a classic Rugrats style mishap he’s much too young to appreciate.
Not that he’s the biggest fan of animations.
Putting aside the obvious ones like Finding Nemo, Finding Dory, Shark Tale, Bubble Guppies, Splash and Bubbles – pretty much anything involving the water, after all he is my kid – and Batman: The Animated Series – the one from the 90s is the only one he’ll accept – the boy just isn’t interested.
He’d rather watch “Sirk and Spock”.
Seriously.
The little dude is my fucking mini.
Sounds of excitement spring forth the instant his feet leave the ground; however, to no surprise they’re short lived.
Extremely so.
Wy – predictably – manages to miss his footing and fall backwards onto his ass split seconds prior to the swing knocking him square in his light freckled chin. While the impact isn’t hard enough to do detrimental damage – or even fucking bruise – it’s just traumatic enough to cause an earth-shaking meltdown.
It’s my turn to let arrogance saunter across my face. “Called it.”
An unbearable howling of wails begins yet rather than cuddle or coddle or express care, I do what I’m sure the lurking paparazzi will label as “callous” and calmly walk away towards the strawberry blonde whose ovaries crack every time she hears him cry.
Finding Jessie Rous was Kirk coming in contact with Scotty while banished to the ice planet level of miracle.
We were arriving at Wy’s early childhood education academy for his first day – he had just turned three months – and she was leaving. Evidently, the position she thought she had wasn’t actually available anymore due to the woman changing her mind because of an unexpected divorce, leaving the poor scholarship student jobless as well as starving because the choice between putting gas in your car or food in your stomach is obvious.