heat waves been faking me out

Jackson huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Bigfoot? Really? I'd at least introduce you before running off with him," he shot back, giving Owen a playful bump with his shoulder. "Seems rude otherwise."

"I'd hope so!" Owen couldn't help a bigger laugh in reply. "After almost three years with you, I actually have a pretty damn vested interest in meeting the hairy guy if it ever happens," he teased, bumping him right back as they started walking. "Let your muscles rest for a couple minutes, stud," he replied with a grin. "I know mine aren't quite as impressive, but I think I can handle some heavy lifting so I can spoil my fiancé every now and then."

Though the fireworks wouldn't start for a little while yet, Jackson knew all the good viewing spots disappeared fast. After spending some time wandering the grounds and playing a few games, he'd slipped back to the van to grab the blanket and cooler he'd stashed away for the show. Better to claim a spot earlier in the evening than end up craning their necks from behind a crowd of people and a dozen strollers. After shutting the van and locking it again, he started back toward the carnival, weaving through families and kids carrying oversized stuffed animals they'd almost certainly spent too much money winning. His gaze drifted over the crowd until he spotted Owen. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he walked over, blanket slung over one shoulder and cooler bumping lightly against his leg. "Mission accomplished," he said, lifting the cooler a little in demonstration. "Now the real question is do we stake out a spot now before everyone else has the same idea, or squeeze in one more ride?"

Owen tapped his foot lightly on the ground as he waited for Jackson to join him again. And when he finally did, he let out a soft laugh in reply. "It's about time," he teased him, although it obviously hadn't been that long. "I was beginning to think Bigfoot had finally shown himself to you and you had ditched me to watch the fireworks with him instead." At Jackson's question, he hummed. "I think... we go get ourselves a good spot and wait it out," he decided. "Besides, I kinda had something I wanted to talk to you about, so we can keep ourselves busy until the show starts, I'm sure." He lifted a hand up to cup Jackson's face, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses to his lips. "Sound like a plan?" he grinned against his lips before pulling back, gently taking the cooler from him and holding it against his own hip instead, his free hand grabbing for Jackson's and threading their fingers together.

Okay, so I'm definitely NOT an interior design expert, this much has become glaringly obvious, because I've hit a wall for the second bedroom. Getting something for Beth to sleep in was kind of the priority, so that's obviously been taken care of, but she's going to need a big girl bed eventually, so I'm thinking a daybed or something -- how do people even do this and make it look cohesive? What do you put on the walls? I've googled 'nursery daybeds' and already feel like a hack, court days are less stressful than this.

Yeah, I can't lie, I have no idea how to put together a child's bedroom. I'll probably have to learn eventually, but I don't think that day is close enough yet. Things to put on the walls, though... uh, wallpaper? Posters? Shelves for children's books or toys? Does any of that help?

SLEEPOVER ASK MEME!

I don't know, I don't think I totally agree with that logic. I feel like there's a pretty big difference between feeling bad because a kid is upset and automatically caving and giving them whatever they want to make them stop crying. Also, kids cry for literally all kinds of reasons. Sure, sometimes it's because they didn't get the toy or candy they wanted, but sometimes they're tired, hungry, or overwhelmed, or just having a really rough day and don't have the words for it yet. So honestly, the fact that your reaction is concern instead of irritation feels less like a sign you're not ready and more like a sign you'd actually care.

Liv kind of said something similar actually, so thank you, Tina. I really do appreciate that. And it definitely does make me feel better about it. I couldn't ever see myself getting irritated, exactly, but I do worry I'd be a dad that essentially spoils my child too much because I just want them to be happy and feel loved. Which... I don't think is a terrible thing, to be fair, but I know it's pretty important to be more balanced. Which my childhood definitely wasn't, so... yeah, this worry probably stems from that.

Oh trust me, that heart wrenching feeling and being upset for the child goes away VERY quickly when you actually have one. I now feel bad for the parent more than the child, because the poor parent has to deal with that headache. It hurts the first time your kid has a tantrum, but after that you just roll your eyes. Or at least I do.

Hey, for my sake, I hope so! At least, I hope I'm able to find a bit of a balance when the time comes. Because, as it stands now, I'm afraid I'm gonna be the type of dad to cave in and give my child whatever they want. I definitely feel for the parents too, though, especially when I think how difficult it must be to deal with in such a public place, too.

Honestly, I don't think that's a sign you're not ready for kids. I think it's a sign you're a decent person. The fact that your first reaction was concern instead of annoyance says a lot. And for what it's worth, most of those grocery store meltdowns aren't nearly as serious as they sound. Sometimes they're tired, sometimes they're overwhelmed, and sometimes they're crying because the universe cruelly refuses to let them bring home seventeen boxes of cereal. If anything, I'd say it's a good sign that your heart goes out to them. The world could use a few more softies.

You know, I do try to be at least somewhat decent, so I'll happily take that! And, yeah, I get that. I think my heart just doesn't always register that fully, unfortunately. That really does mean a lot, though, Liv. Especially coming from you, one of the best moms I know.

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