Lawrence smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I wouldn't mind if he took after you. A little aloof, mysterious—it builds character."
Bonnie rolled her eyes playfully. "I am not aloof..."
Suddenly, a loud, aggressive fart ripped through the quiet room, courtesy of a fast-asleep Hayden.
Bonnie physically jumped, startled. She whipped her head back to look at the tiny infant, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh my god! How does he have that much power in him? That scared the life out of me!"
Lawrence let out a muffled, chest-deep laugh. "Sounds like a little firecracker. No wonder they call them little terrors."
As if on cue, Hayden let out another one, this time a long, drawn-out squeak.
Bonnie groaned, dramatically covering her nose. "He's so tiny! He literally only drinks milk! How can it smell this bad? Lawrence, I think your son just pooped."
"Let's find out. Sounded like a blowout to me." Lawrence immediately pushed himself out of bed and expertly unbuttoned his son's onesie.
He tied the fabric up around the baby's waist to keep it out of the way and ripped open the diaper tabs. "Yep. We have a code red."
Lawrence was no longer the terrified rookie dad who was afraid of breaking his kid. Like a seasoned pro, he had rapidly overcome his fear and mastered the mechanics of baby care. He gently grasped both of his son's chunky, pink calves, lifted them, and used the clean section of the diaper for a preliminary wipe before scooping the baby up and carrying him to the bathroom.
Little Hayden had his own dedicated changing station and sink. Holding his son securely with one arm, Lawrence adjusted the water temperature and carefully washed him down. After a generous layer of diaper cream and a fresh diaper, he buttoned the onesie back up and returned to the master bedroom.


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