I hold Sherrie, the baby sleeping soundly in my arms, as Darcie stretches her body, a long groan escaping her.
‘You have no idea how heavy she is,’ she grumbles, retaking her seat next to me and glancing at her daughter with a smile full of love.
‘I’m holding her now, she hardly weighs anything,’ I chuckle, making the older girl roll her eyes.
‘Yeah, wait a few hours and then come back to me,’ she retorts. She turns and reaches out to the coffee table, picking up the coffee my mother just made her, her eyes widening as she lifts it to her nose and inhales.
‘Oh my God! I can drink it hot,’ she moans in appreciation as she takes a sip. ‘I haven’t had a hot drink since she was born, I swear she waits to poop until I have a drink in my hand.’
I chuckle as I gently stroke the baby’s velvet
