*A/N":  To all my readers, 

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Nineteen Months and Endless Sleepless Nights Later

The sharp wail of my son's cry through the baby monitor didn't even faze me anymore.

After a year and a half of his wonderful existence on this earth we were pretty good at deciphering his cries. Noah whining meant he was hungry. A long scream, followed by a dramatic pause then an even longer scream meant he needed to be changed. This one, the one that pretty much occurred at five every morning meant he was awake so we needed to be awake too. I rolled over onto my back and patted Sehun's hard chest with my knuckles. He moaned sleepily, only waking enough to determine which one of us was vacating our warm, comfy bed. "On three. One...two...three," He mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes. "What'd you throw?"

"Rock."

"Hmm. What'd I throw?"

I sat up slightly to look at his hands. "Something between a teepee and a gang sign. You know the rules; any incomplete signs is an automatic DQ."

"Damnit." Thirty seconds and his breathing started to even out, I knew I was going to be the one getting out of bed. All of a sudden the crying stopped and morphed into a happy squeal, a bright voice singing softly from his room down the hall:

"Different color my passport,
Instagram my stack load,
hashtag my day wear and your girl drank my day care and I'm born rich life ain't fair,
silver spoon coon, ho!
Ain't nobody sicker and my Fisker, vroom vroom ho, ain't nobody,
Fiskers don't make noise when they start up, just so you know...that's right, no they don't! Isn't that right my little hellbeast!"

I couldn't stop myself from laughing at the impromptu concert and neither could Sehun when he picked up the little walkie-talkie and pressed the red button, "Princess, I told you to quit rappin' to my son."

"Tell Daddy Childish Gambino is a God an