#dominicanreader

“Toma mi nino, Mamis a meanie”. Connie teased, handing your son back the painting supplies his grandma had bought him a few weeks ago. “Dios mio, Connie”, You sighed, shaking your head. “You better be the same one cleaning up his mess...Yo no sé pa’ que la mama tuya le compra esta porquería”. You went back to slicing the fresh mangos connie had picked up from the farmers market. “Mami’s just tryna keep lil’ man entertained—but don’t worry, baby, I’ll clean it up.” Connie chuckled while placing his hands under your bump giving you some form of relief. “Mmm I love when you do that”. you murmured, leaning into him as he pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

“Mami Papi mira!”. Junior, your 2 year old son waddled over to the kitchen, He had paint all over his arms as he held a painting. “I draw Mami, Papi, Junior… and sissy,” he announced proudly, holding it up for you both to see. 

His portrait was the cutest messiest stick figure drawing that made you and Connie's heart melt. You felt Connie’s chest rumble with a chuckle against your back as he leaned down to admire it. “Papi, this belongs in a museum,” he said, taking the paper carefully from Junior’s paint-smeared fingers. “We gotta show mama”. Junior quickly nodded his head and Connie pulled out his phone. “Show her the mess too baby”. Connie sucked his teeth as he took the picture of Junior smiling from ear to ear while holding up his masterpiece.

“Ok, Papa, it’s bath time,” you said with a smile, scooping your messy little boy up and settling him on your hip. His chubby legs wrapped around you, and you couldn’t help but notice the streaks of blue and green running all the way up his arms. “You got paint all in your hair, too”. Junior curiously patted his hair putting more paint on his curls. You shook your head with a laugh. “Papi’s got this—Mami tiene que descansar,” Connie said, stepping in to rescue you. He picked up Junior from your hip with ease, planting a quick, warm kiss on your forehead. “Come on, papi, let’s get you cleaned up.” Before you could even say anything, Connie was already jogging down the hall with Junior bouncing in his arms, both of them laughing like it was the best game in the world. You could hear your son’s squeals mixing with Connie’s goofy voices, followed by the sound of water splashing in the bathroom. You dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, the sweet smell of mango still hanging in the air, and rested your hands on your bump. The muffled sounds of the two of them playing made you smile without even realizing it. Moments like these were all you needed. 

A little while later, Connie came back down the hall with a freshly scrubbed Junior, his curls damp and smelling like baby shampoo. He was in his favorite dinosaur pajamas, clutching his blanket, already fighting to keep his eyes open. “Looks like someone's tired” Connie murmured, scooping him up a little tighter. The bedtime routine was quick—storybook, kisses, and tucking the blanket under his chin. You watched from the doorway, heart warm at the sight of your boys.

Once Junior was asleep, Connie quietly closed the bedroom door and turned to you with that tired but soft smile he always had at the end of the day. “Alright, mami… now it’s just us.” You followed him back to the couch, sinking into the cushions as he pulled you close, one hand instinctively resting over your bump. The house was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the faint rain tapping against the window. “Thank you baby,” you whispered. “For what?” he asked. “For… this. Being the best husband and father”. Connie kissed your temple and let out a low chuckle. “Always, baby. That’s never gonna change”. You melted into him, his warmth wrapped around you while everything else faded into the background—just you, him, and the little life you’d made together, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.