the ladle in your grip stiffens its motions, but then you continue to stir the thick, soupy combination of chicken stock and garlic.
The most important part of tonight’s dinner- the sauce of the katsu curry. Actually, close to first. Probably second. The chicken cutlets you’ve managed to bargain for a greater price at the markets lies at the counter beaming at you with intense interest—
poke-poke-poke. A menacing finger is jabbed at your shoulder from behind before frosty white tips come to tickle the side of your cheeks as soon as your husband chin is placed upon the delicate curve of your shoulder.
“…I thought I put you on bed arrest.” Right. You were put on bed arrest since you had put the baby to bed last night. The trials and tribulations of having a baby were a long process, but in the end- you managed to snooze out at four in the morning. Upon hearing about the news that you’d casually mentioned when you served him a cup of coffee- his face dropped in horror and since this morning… he’s implemented the act of putting you on bed arrest.
And yes, he has followed you around the house to further ensure that you had gotten rest.
A sigh escapes your lips, “Satoru, I’m fine. Let me just-”
“Nope!” He pops the p with full emphasis, effectively cronking the temp down to zero before dragging you away from the stove.
“No ‘buts,’ missy,” he sing-songs, grin sharpening. “Unless you’re referring to mine, in which case- hard agree. Spectacular asset. Moving on.”
You barely have any time to register the fact that you are back in your shared bed- plopped right in the soft fluffy blankets that hit your back gently. He rolls you into a blanket burrito- trapping you effectively, before pulling out his phone and snapping evidence of his mischief.
“Need to document this,” He mumbles, his fingers padding against the keyboard with lightning speed, “Caption: wife of the famous Gojo Satoru known commonly as sexiest-lady-on-earth faces harsh punishment of the blanket burrito due to breaking the law implemented for her to rest…”
When you’ve dozed off like a sleepy kitten buried in the furs of the blankets- chubby limbs pad against the floor before a pudgy hand tugs at Satoru’s pants. With a delighted hum, he hoists their daughter on his hip, allowing her to peek at your snoozing form.
“Mamamama?” She babbles, pointing her roll of a finger at your snoozing form. Satoru grins.
“Mhm. That’s mama. And mama?” He smacks a smooch on her chubby cheek, “Needs nap time. Just like how you-” Sniffle-sniffle…He scrunches his nose, “Need a bath. Pronto.”
And there goes your husband with your babbling baby, ready to tackle on the trials and tribulations of bath time.
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