ELENA“Milkaaaa,” I sung. “What did Mama say about Doc?”Milka stared at the TV, still blaring out Doc McStuffins, the tiny two-year-old’s latest obsession. “Ah, one show afore nap?”“One show, that’s right,” I said. “But . . .” I swooped her into my arms and dropped back onto my bed, to her insane giggles. “Shhh. We can watch another Doc.”Milka clapped her hand over her mouth, and I slid up the bed to the head of it.“Nachos,” Aiden muttered.“You’re early,” I retorted. “We’ve got a date with Stuffy and Doc, right, Mi?”“Yeah, El!” Milka turned to look at Aiden. “My lub El. My lub Stuffy and Doc. And Elmo. And Peppa.”I smiled at Aiden over the top of Milka’s head. “I think Stuffy and Doc and Elmo and Peppa love naptime,” I said, getting up to fill her milk sippy cup. When it was full, I screwed the lid on and climbed back onto the bed. I dutifully lie through twenty minutes of mind-numbing Doc McStuffins. “Now,” I whispered, lying Milka down in her crib. “You be a good girl for Unc
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