An Underestimated Christmas (Underestimated 3) by Jettie Woodruff Page A

brushed my teeth, screaming everything I wanted to say to him in my head. That was my moment of weakness. That was the moment I realized I may have a problem. The noise was silent when I shook the empty bottle.
    “What the hell, Morgan? Will you talk to me?”
    I walked out of the bathroom, hiding the bottle in a fist and shot Drew a look that he read, well, leave me the hell alone . Drew knew as well as I did, we were about to start our day yelling at each other. He shut up, and I shut down. The pills weren’t on the windowsill anymore. Drew did something with them. I don’t know how to really explain it, but I was scared. I was terrified that I didn’t have them. Now what? I couldn’t go ask him for them.
    No. I was fine. Nothing hurt, and there was no reason for me to have a painkiller. I started coffee and walked to peek in on the boys. I knew Tadpole was still sleeping. He would have already woken us if he were up. Nicholas may or may not be. I’ve told him a thousand times he didn’t have to wait for me to come get him when he woke up, but most of the time he did. Unless I yelled for him from the kitchen, he would be sitting on his bed, flipping the pages of a giant picture book of bridges. Drew ordered it for him two years ago, and he still looked at it every morning.
    “Watcha doing?” I asked, dropping to my knees by his bed. My torso looked over his book and I growled, lunging at his neck with my sharp teeth. I grabbed him with big bear claws and pinned him to the mattress. His laughter was instantly contagious when my chin met his ribs, sending him into a laughing frenzy.
    “MooOoom!” he giggled, begging me to stop.
    “What do you want for breakfast?” I asked, kissing his exposed belly and blowing noisy raspberries. He cackled.
    “I want, I want,” Tad stuttered from the door.
    Forming an O with my mouth, I looked shockingly at Nicholas. “Pretend you’re a sleep,” I coaxed, closing my eyes. I grabbed Tadpole in the same, tickling bear hug when he didn’t fall for it.
    I rolled one turn to the foot of the bed and listened to Nicholas tell his little brother about a bridge in his book. He was so serious about it.
    “I gonna go on dat bridge,” Tad decided, pointing to the swinging bridge.
    “You can’t go there, Tad. It’s an ancient bridge. It’s not there anymore. Right, Mom?” Nicholas looked to me for help.
    “Yeah, sure,” I said, having no clue if the bridge was ancient or not.
    “I can be Spiderman. Then me can,” Tad assured his big brother, sticking out his puny little chest. Oh god, he was a spitting image of his dad. Nicholas would rather argue with Tadpole than let it go. Nicholas didn’t care. He could have turned the page and told him he could go on that bridge, or that one, but that would have been too easy.
    “No, you can’t, Tadpole. It’s not there anymore. It’s the Ballasted Bridge in South Africa. Spiderman can’t go back in time.”
    “Me can,” Tad assured him. I caught him just in time by one leg. Nicky pushed him in the chest, sending him to the floor.
    “That wasn’t very nice. You could have hurt your brother,” I lectured.
    “Well, him can’t go to a bridge that is from a long time ago. Even if he was Spiderman.”
    “He’s three, Nicky. He’s little. He doesn’t know that. You have to be nice and explain it to him. I think you should tell Tadpole you’re sorry,” I persuaded. Nicky put his head down and turned the page in his book.
    “Tell Tadpole you’re sorry for pushing him, Nicholas. If you can’t say you’re sorry, I’m going to make you stay in your room until I have breakfast ready. Don’t you want to come out and be with Daddy?”
    “Come on, sport. Daddy already has breakfast cooking,” Drew said, lifting Nicholas over my head. Sure he did. Fruit Loops didn’t count as cooking. I stared after Drew as he carried Nicholas out, and then made Tadpole go to the potty. He assured me he already went, but the constant pinching