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Uncle Luke and the Teething Crisis

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Luke bounced the screaming baby in his arms. Maryse warned him when she left that Izzy was cutting three teeth at once, and was very unhappy about it. He had shrugged it off. Alec and Jonathan has suffered through teething with only a moderate amount of misery. But Isabelle... she wasn’t having it.


“Mama... mama said she’s in pain.”


Luke looked down at the wide eyed three year old now standing in front of him. That freakishly quiet toddler was so light on his feet, Luke seriously considered putting a bell on him.


“Yeah, buddy. She got bones making their way out of her mouth. It’s not fun.”


“She has a teething ring.” He informed him, as though he firmly believed that Luke was unaware of the obvious solution.


“I know. She was chewing on it earlier. It’s all warm and melted now. I put it back in the freezer, but it’s gonna be a while before it’s ready again.”


Izzy ramped up her screaming from a flat cry to a sharp screech as she began to wriggle and flail in Luke’s arms. He struggled to keep hold of her. By the angel, he swore there would be one child in his mix matched little family that he did not drop on their head.


“Uncle Luke... do you need help?”


“Heh! Probably.”


“Can help?”


Luke looked down at him again. The determined look on his face almost made Luke tear up a little.


“No buddy. I don’t think so. Why don’t you go watch tv? I’m gonna try to get her to sleep, and your bedtime is soon, too.”


Alec started at him a moment longer before turning on his heel and heading out without another word. Luke rearranged Izzy in his arms, but it was no use. She had redefined ‘inconsolable’.


“You gotta work with me here, princess. I am five minutes away from rubbing whiskey on your gums, and I think your mama might stab me for that. Well... for using her good whiskey, anyway.”


A few moments later, Luke felt a tug on his pant leg. Looking down, he saw Alec, with a determined and accomplished look on his face, holding up a plastic tube filled with bright green ice.


“A freezie pop?” He laughed.


Alec’s face didn’t shift. He held up  the freezie pop a little higher, rocking up on his toes.


“Teething stick.” He declared.


“Ha! Alright, let’s see if that works.” He took the freezie from him and held it to Izzy’s mouth. “What do you think, princess? Does that help?” The infernal noise stopped as the baby chomped down on the frozen plastic like a starving piranha. Luke grinned at Alec. “Good job, buddy. That was a big help.”


“I made it better?”


“Yeah, you did.”


Alec grinned. “Well, that wasn’t so fucking hard, was it?” And with that, he marched back out of the nursery.


Luke decided then and there, that he was swearing off child care for good. His friends could raise their own damn brats.




Three hours later, a tired and bloody Maryse Lightwood returned home to find her friend and children curled up asleep on the recliner.


“Lucian? Why are my children green?”