"You've got your sanitizer?"

"Yes, mom."

"How about your water bottle?"

Yeri bounces around with her little backpack, making a lot of noise to point out that yes, she has her water bottle and everything else she needs in there.

But of course, her mommy Wendy isn't done yet, eyebrows determinedly furrowed to think up of things Yeri might have forgotten or whatever it is moms think of.

"Your lunch!"

"I have it here, mom," Yeri sighs.

"Yeah but are you sure that's enough? Maybe I should make a run to the restaurant, see if there's something I can—"

Yeri squishes her mom's cheeks into a pout, determined to make her stop talking.

"Mommy, I'm going to soccer practice, not the army. Calm down."

Wendy easily gets out of her seven-year old's hold and peppers her little face with kisses. Yeri tells her she's being embarassing but lets her anyway. At least she's not crying, the little girl thinks.

It's funny how everyone thinks her Irene umma is the fussy one when it's her mommy Wendy who does the embarassing things.

If she weren't busy today, mommy Wendy would have definitely stayed until practice was over.

The coach soon waves her over and Yeri kisses her mom goodbye. She spots a couple of her friends and runs towards them, not even sparing another glance back.

Wendy dials her wife's number, knowing Irene prefers calls to texts.

"I dropped her off," she says as soon it picked up. "She's growing so fast, Hyun."

"Babe," Irene chuckles, "It's her second week of soccer practice. I mean, i think it's cute but why are you still like this?"

"Because," Wendy whines, "it's too fast!" She gives a lingering gaze at their daughter, laughing and running around so carefree. "It feels like yesterday–"

"–she was running around in her diapers," Irene finishes with her.

"I've said that too many times, haven't I," Wendy playfully sighs.

"You have," Joohyun giggles. "It's not a bad thing, though." She's said this before, too. Many times.

"I should be getting to work."

"You should be," Joohyun agrees. Then grinningly, "You're still going to be thinking about our baby growing up, aren't you."

"You can't prove anything," Wendy huffs as she glances at Yeri before getting inside her car.

"Of course," her wife giggles again. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

The call ends. She casts one last glance at their happy little girl one more time. She really is growing too fast.

If Wendy sings a tearful rendition of Slipping Through My Fingers on the drive back, no one has to know.