Arthur Stefan Minyard-Josten is 2 years old in it.
So, it was 2 a.m. on a tiring night, and Andrew Joseph Minyard was trying to sleep. His “obviously NOT husband” Neil was completely immersed in his own dreams, so when a small, pitiful voice came from the doorway, only Andrew heard it.
“Dada…” the tiny blond boy whispered, trying to wake his parent, thinking nobody would actually stir. But the constant worry Andrew had for the kid he and Neil had adopted a year ago kicked in. His sixth sense, combined with his amazing hearing abilities, immediately woke Minyard up.
Minyard stood up, trying not to wake Neil, and moved closer to his child, squatting in front of him.
Arthur’s face was red from crying, and he looked terrified. The little fox plushie he held in his arms gave him a shield to hide behind, but you could never hide when your dad was Andrew Minyard.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong, or should I guess?” the father asked, fighting the urge to pull his baby into his arms.
“I… I… dweam… bad… dweam,” Arthur explained, whimpering and shivering, either from the cold or from the fear he had experienced.
Gripping his plushie, he sheepishly looked at Minyard, who, upon hearing his son’s explanation, had already opened his arms, offering a hug.
Arthur sobbed and immediately leaned into the hug, breathing in the familiar smell of his favorite parent.
Minyard stood up, holding the kid in his arms, and went to the kitchen.
“Want a midnight snack?” Andrew whispered, adjusting the boy in his arms.
Arthur giggled and nodded quickly, pressing his face into Andrew’s shoulder.
“Okay then. I’ll make you a sandwich,” Minyard murmured, opening the fridge to make a quick peanut butter and jam toast. Why the f** does Neil put this stuff in the fridge?* Andrew thought to himself, while his son quietly sat in his arms. Then Arthur asked a pretty interesting question.
“Dada…” the two-year-old whispered into Andrew’s neck. “Do you love me?”
At that moment, Andrew’s heart skipped a beat. He had never told anyone he loved them—not even Neil—but he absolutely understood that if, in this moment, he made the little boy with blue eyes feel unloved, it would crush both their lives.
So he paused, arguing with himself in his head, weighing whether he fully understood what he was about to admit. When he heard a small sob from Arthur, signaling that his anxiety was about to overwhelm him, Andrew finally gave up.
“Yes. I do. I love you,” he whispered, sounding just as tiny as his son.
So I wrote what I wanted in the first place, and I feel like it could have happened with Andrew. People change, and if they do because of their kids — it's incredible.
Love them with all my heart, and I hope that you will love them too. If you want to read more just interact with this post.
Also tagging @rantabtaftg cause I know she will like it