Don’t Mess It Up

"Mom? Are you okay?" Tate asks, snapping me out of my thoughts so harshly I gasp.

"Huh?"

"You're not eating," he says, pointing at my full plate of breakfast, "You need to eat."

"Oh, right. I was just thinking," I mumble and grab my fork to force some eggs down my throat under Tate's eyes. They don't leave me.

"More," he orders, making me laugh a little. I always find it funny when he forgets HE is the kid here, not me, "The fruit, too."

"Fine, I'm eating. Jeez," I laugh. He already ate everything on his plate, so he really just watches over me for another five minutes, making sure I finish everything.

Sometimes I get really scared about the future. If he's so intimidating now, I can't even imagine how he's going to be when he grows up.

It really helps that he has a pretty face, but if he were ugly, he would be called a demon child. I swear he has some dark demon-lord soul or something.

But, like I said, he's really damn cute. And he's not scary all the time, he's also very innocent