They’re like little fucking noisemakers; shrill and generally unpleasant. Not that Josh would say that OUT LOUD to Sam or anyone else, because yeah, anti-father of the year award. “Hell if I know. Would I dunno, warm milk help or something?”
Head in her hands, Sam can’t help but curl up on herself, tiny baby rested on the tops of her thighs and continuing to scream. “Breastmilk is already warm, and it’s all they’re allowed to have until they’re one. We’ve tried everything.”













