“Shawn,” Juliet whispered to her husband, who was sitting right next to her on their couch. “How long is your father going to be here?”

Henry was running around their apartment almost frantically, cleaning everything in his path and mumbling a steady stream of what sounded like obscenities.

“Are you kidding?” Shawn whispered back, grinning happily. “You’re carrying what will very likely be his only grandchild. He’s not leaving until that sucker goes to college.”

“First of all,” Juliet countered, her voice no longer whispering. “We never said ‘only’.”

Shawn laughed, kissing his wife on the forehead as Henry once again made another warlike pass through the living room.

“Damn it, Shawn!” he growled, throwing some soda cans into a blue bucket. “Recycling goes in the blue! How many times do I have to tell you? How the hell are you going to raise a kid if you can’t even sort recycling?”

“Let’s just get through this one first,” Shawn suggested, rolling his eyes. “You’ve never raised a Spencer kid before. I’m telling you, I was no picnic. And based on the horror stories Grandpa  used to tell me about Dad and Uncle Jack, they were even worse than me. One might be all we can handle. In fact, does the hospital have any kind of return policy on this thing?”

“No, Shawn,” Juliet smiled, snuggling under his arm as they watched Henry continue to thunder through the apartment. “There’s no return on a baby. I’m not worried about that. But, I’m only three months pregnant! I don’t know how much more of your father’s help I can take! I’m not even on desk duty yet! I think I can clean the apartment on my own.”

“Sure, you can,” Shawn shrugged. “But, why would you want to? It makes the old man happy to think he’s helping. It gives him a purpose in life.”

“I didn’t think your father ever lacked a purpose.”

“Well, we’ve been married for a few years now,” Shawn pointed out, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “I own my own business. We’re going to buy a house at some point. And, now we’re having a baby. I’m officially not a screw-up anymore. He needs to yell about something.”

“Damnit, Shawn!” Henry yelled from the kitchen. “You haven’t childproofed anything in here yet! I can just open the knife drawer! Do you want to kill your own child? Is that what you’re trying to do? Because if he’s anything like you, he’ll be into the knives the second you bring him home from the hospital!”

“How does he know it’s going to be a him?” Juliet asked, back to whispering. “I won’t even know for a little while yet.”

“That’s one of those questions that’s best left unasked,” Shawn whispered back. His voice rose as he called back to his father in the kitchen. “Oh, right! I was gonna do that today, Pop! Really! You don’t have any duct tape, do you?”

Henry poked his head into the living room, glaring sharply at his son. “You don’t childproof with duct tape, Shawn.”

Shawn just stared blankly at him. “Then…I’m lost.”

Henry groaned in frustration. “Never mind! I’ll do it myself! You’re never going to be ready for the responsibilities of fatherhood, kid, if you don’t start-”

Mercifully, the rest of the lecture was unheard by the two on the couch as Henry disappeared once again into the kitchen.

Juliet looked at her husband, confused. “You know how to childproof,” she chided. “You bought all the stuff at Home Depot last week.”

Shawn blinked, badly feigning innocence. “Oh…did I?”

She smacked his arm playfully, laughing. “You can’t keep taking advantage of him like this. It’s not fair.”

“Are you kidding?” Shawn snorted. “It’s the first time in my entire life I have something he wants. I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth.” To prove his point, he cupped one hand over his mouth and called out again. “Hey, Dad! I think there’s some ice cream in the freezer!”

“Then, get off your lazy ass and get it yourself!” Henry called back.

“I would,” Shawn replied with mock sincerity. “But it’s for Jules, and she was really specific that she wanted you to get it. She said I’d just mess it up or something…you know me! You wouldn’t deny my pregnant wife a bowl of ice cream, would you?”

“Oh, come on!” Juliet whispered, trying not to laugh. “That can’t possibly work!”

Shawn just smiled, pointing at the door as Henry walked in, ice cream in hand. He handed it to Juliet, still glaring at his son.

“I swear, kid,” he growled, shaking his head and turning back to the kitchen. “You’re never going to survive the teething months if you don’t get your act together and start-”

Once again, the lecture faded away as Henry went back to work child-proofing.

Shawn took the bowl of ice cream from his wife. “Thanks, Jules,” he beamed.

She snatched it back. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But it was my scam!” Shawn protested helplessly.

“And I’m the one who’s carrying your child.”

Shawn huffed. “I’m glad that’s only good for nine months,” he sulked.

Juliet patted his cheek. “Of course it is,” she assured him, smiling. She kicked her own feet up, enjoying this game now. “Okay, then,” she challenged, eating the ice cream. “What else can you get him to do?”

“Paint the nursery.”

“You cannot!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Sure. What?”

“Baby naming rights.”

Juliet hesitated for a moment, but her naturally competitive nature finally won out. “Deal.”

They shook on it.

“Hey, Dad!” Shawn called. “I’m gonna go paint the nursery. One coat oughta do it, right?”

“You’ll need at least two!” Henry shouted back.

“No, no!” Shawn argued. “I really think one will be fine!”

Henry was in the doorway again in a flash. “You need a coat of primer first,” Henry informed his son. “And if you want the blue to really pop, you need at least two coats.”

Shawn just shrugged exaggeratedly. “Eh, I’ll figure it out I’m sure. I’m just wondering how I stop the carpet from getting destroyed.”

“You put down a dropcloth!” Henry shouted. “Good God, kid! Didn’t I teach you anything?”

“A dropcloth!” Shawn smacked his forehead. “Of course!” He turned to his wife innocently. “Jules, where are your good sheets? You know, the ones you put on the guest bed.”

Henry’s face boiled red as he sputtered incoherently at his idiot son. “You don’t use-! Shawn! For the love of-!”

“I think you broke him,” Juliet whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Shawn whispered back. “He’s just re-booting himself. It just takes a minute.”

Sure enough, Henry stormed off towards the nursery, muttering under his breath the whole way.

“He’s not really going to paint it, is he?” Juliet asked once they were alone.