Chapter 2

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This chapter seemed to type itself so here's the next part, warning if you're uncomfortable reading abuse scenes, stop reading after the bedtime story. If not, keep going. Happy Reading!

Trying to wrangle a wiggly four year old boy into khakis and a bottom up dress shirt is difficult, very difficult. Especially when you take into account the fact that said four year old boy has an unnatural hatred of clothing in general, something about the restrictive buttons and zippers taking away his manliness, all I know is that it makes times like these into an unnecessary fight.

"No! I don't like clothes! They're unnatural!" He shouts, attempting to fight free of his shirt but I'm holding onto his arms.

I knew it was a bad idea to let them watch that special on cavemen last night...as if it wasn't hard enough to keep him clothed, I think. The other two never had this love of nudity, they're already dressed and hanging in front of the tv, so I was ill prepared when Ollie became fascinated with being naked.

Now it's time for his pants, and I brace myself for the really big wiggle war. "Ollie Man we've been over this, dinner time is not naked time. Neither is breakfast or lunch, but especially  not dinner time."

He pouts and crosses his tiny arms over his chest. "Why can't all the time be naked time?"

I sigh, how in the world did I get stuck answering these questions? "I don't know butthead, but if every time was naked time, then you would see a lot of other people that way, you wouldn't want to see Ms. Lauren all nakey now would you?" I ask, fighting the laugh that wants to come out when he rears back in horror, his whole body rejecting that image.

Shaking his head rapidly back and forth he adamantly denies it. "No! That would be 'sgusting!"

"Well then, you should stay dressed so she doesn't try to copy you." His shoulders slump forward and I know I've got him now.

"Fine, but it's your fault if I lose my man card." I look to the ceiling, praying for a strength I don't know I can possess.

"Sure, Oll." I don't even try to argue, I know when I won't win.

"I don't like pants."

Trying not to tear my hair out I sigh. "I know you don't."

"Or shirts," now he's just being a turd.

"I know, Ollie." I grab his hand as we walk to join his brothers.

"Or underwear." Oh. My. God. "They hurt my man nuts."At that I spin to face him, gaping. Where in the heck does he hear this stuff? Oh that's right, from his brothers.

I look at the other two bozos and glare at them, my eyes conveying the blame I'm placing on them for teaching a four year old to say such things, but the effect is ruined by my inability to not laugh. He said "man nuts."

"I'll sneak you a cookie after dinner as a reward for staying dressed." I promise him and his dour mood disappears at the mention of his favorite thing in the world besides nudity...sugar.

He turns to his brothers, a stern expression on his face. "What are you waiting for, let's go!"

They groan but follow me into the kitchen where I pull out everything I need to create a masterpiece of food. Tonight, I think I'll make simple Caesar salads and wood plank salmon with asparagus and mashed potatoes for dinner, creme brûlée for dessert because Lauren believes it's fancy and makes her look good to the rich people in attendance.

While I cook, the boys go about setting the table and helping me where they can. I try to share these moments with them, teaching them valuable skills and manners so that they'll be fine when I'm eventually kicked out when I hit 18. Although Lauren might not let me go, I do far to much around here for her to cast me out, even without money from the state.

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