A can of easy cheese rolled off the table and hit the deck.
“I thought this boat was so big we weren’t supposed to feel it when the ocean rocked?” I asked. He shrugged. The can rolled away.
“I thought we were going to class it up and not sneak easy cheese and Ritz crackers in your purse.” He winked and leaned in for a kiss. I turned me head at the last second as sound came from my right, and spray hit our faces.
A whale leapt in the water just a dozen feet away. The audience crowded around us on deck ewwed and awwed. I leaned over for the easy cheese, almost dropping the sleeping toddler on my lap.
“Is there really classing anything up, when we have a handful of crumb makers following us everywhere we go?” I laughed and pulled Tilda closer.
The boys sat on the floor by our feet, completely uninterested in the show nature was putting on for us, but the sound of Henry crying had me leaning over and looking into the stroller. His tiny pink face squashed up, his anger evident. He was the only kid who could not be soothed and overjoyed by a squirt of easy cheese into the mouth.
I leaned in the the stroller and lifted him out, carefully balancing sleepy Tilda on the other. “Do you have a the bottle?” I asked, and Daniel handed me a bottle, carefully prepared in the early hours before our trip by the nanny. Right before she started to throw up and fell to the wayside of the way to come to the ocean.
She should have been here. Henry always took a bottle better for her than he took it for either one of us. I tipped the nipple into his mouth, and prayed that he would grasp it between his tiny lips and tongue.
Daniel took Tilda from my other leg, as Henry struggled to wrap his mouth around the bottle tip. I sighed as I could feel the wetness from his tears going through my spandex leggings, his wiggles and screams getting worse. The family at the next table looked our way, then quickly in the other direction as I glared at them. You come do this if it’s so easy.
Henry had been mad since I had gone back to work, my breasts drying up and shriveling. It wasn’t my fault baby five got the short end of the straw, but I had a law degree for a reason, and I would not be sitting at the house any longer when I could go back into the real world. Talk to people every day. Save people.
Well, saving them from signing the wrong contract for water containers anyway. Third world water training could be a bitch. But not as much of a bitch as me when I got irritated about my breasts drying up, and my husband could get the baby to take a bottle, the nanny could get him to take a bottle, and from me? He only screamed because it was yet another thing I was not doing right.

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