[this has been written for a while but I couldn't think of a name, more to come! WARNING: This is a story about gay men and adorable little girls :) Enjoy, May<3]

Soft feet padded down the hall, seemingly soundless as they made their way into the bedroom.

He was still blissfully asleep when the ground beneath him started to shake and rumble.  In his mind an earthquake had begun.  He struggled to consiousness only to be meet with reality.


Wes looked blearily at his niece, who was still bouncing up and down on his bed. 

"Morning Mary Anne, why are you up so early?"

"I'm just sooooo EXCITED!"  The little girl replied. 

Oh yes, today is the day she starts 'Young Artists,' the summer art program for 3 to 6 year olds. 

"Ok baby, but you know it’s not for another," he glanced at his bedside clock to read it was only 4:30 am.  Wes groaned, "for another five hours."

"But I can't sleep anymoooore." The 4 year old whined. "Puweeez, Uncky.  Get up and pway wif me."  She pulled out all the tricks.  Holding his face in her tiny paws, giving those puppy-dog eyes.  Even over working the baby talk. 

'This girl could get anything she wanted out of me' Wes thought to himself, knowing just how tightly his niece had him wrapped around that bitty finger.

He had gotten custody of his Mary Anne when she was 18 months old.  Her 'sperm donner' was a dead beat and her mother couldn't hold a job to save her life.  She just loved to party too much to make it to a steady paying job every morning and take care of a baby.  That was his sister, always worried about the next thrill and where to get more fun. 

He honestly didn't know he had a niece until his sister showed up with social services to ask him to take the baby. 

Wes took one look into those small sleepy hazel eyes and his heart was lost.  He took the full custody and never looked back.


At 9 AM he started to get the small child ready, combing her hair and trying his best to put it up in a pony for her.  He may be gay but his hair styling skills sucked.

Wes marched a bouncing tot to the car and strapped her into her car set.  The whole while attempting to answer every question she threw at him.

"What will we get to do?" Mary Anne asked for the hundrendth time.

"Art, Sweetie."

"I know that, but will we get to use clay!? You never let me play wif clay at home!"  She started bouncing again with this new thought.

The excited queations and the possiblities continued the entire way to the building hosting the program.  When they stopped Wes honestly thought Mary Anne would bust through her straps and dash like a mad woman to the entrance.

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