P R O G N O S T I C A T E
verb [prog-nos-ti-keyt]

To forecast or predict (something future) from present indications or signs.

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"What do you think of the Chinese place three blocks down?" James rubbed his chin and squinted his eyes. You frowned at the thought of that restaurant. It didn't fit the whole 'vibe' you were going for.

"Shouldn't we have something [y/s/n] would enjoy as well?" You suggested and he nodded his head slowly. He ran a hand through his hair then took a deep breath.

You placed a cup of coffee on the counter where he sat on a bar stool then smiled at him. "Well... we have a couple more days before we need to confirm anything," You said and went over to the sink to start washing the dishes.

You heard the sound of small, light feet walking on the wooden floor and you turned back, seeing that your three year old son entered the kitchen searching for a snack.

James reached out to take a cookie out if a jar to give to his son hut you slapped his hand. "No more junk honey! You were there for his dentist appointment," You eyed him and he sighed.

Your son started to complain, starting to suck on his fingers at the thought of eating a cookie.

You walked over to the fridge and took out a bag of baby carrots. You put a few in a small plastic bowl then gave it to [y/s/n], who started chewing on one of the pieces.

He waddled out of the kitchen and towards the living room where the television was on Disney channel-

THUD! CLANG!

You jerked at the loud sound then slowly looked back to time your son on the floor, on his stomach, and the carrots all over the ground.

James rushed to him and kneeled down, picking his son up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Are you okay? Did you get any boo-boos?" He asked and [y/s/n] shook his head, looking sadly at all the carrots on the floor, "It's okay sweetheart, I'll get you some more."

James stood up and held his hand, helping his son towards the couches to watch TV. He walked back to the kitchen and shook his head as he picked the carrots off the floor and went over to the sink to clean them.

"He needs a hair-"

"No James," You snapped immediately upon hearing the word 'hair'. He stood beside you as you cleaned the counters with a cloth and crossed his arms.

"Oh come on, this is the fourth time this week that he has tripped!" He stated loudly and you clenched your jaw.

"Our son isn't getting a haircut James!" You glared at him and he held his forehead.

"Look... I get that you love his hair, and I do too. But he can clearly not see properly-And don't tell me that it's the shoes again baby," James pointed out and you bit your lip.

You looked back at your son sitting in the couch, smiling softly at the light brown hair that swept across his face. His hair was long, covering his forehead and some of his eyes. He looked so adorable with that style, you didn't want it to change.

"He fell on the floor now but what if next time, he falls on the pavement and hits his chin? What if he trips down the stairs [y/n] and gets really injured?" James questioned sadly.

You raised an eyebrow and faced James. "He is NOT getting a haircut," You instructed, "I did not carry him for nine months to have his hair look... You owe me this, let his hair grow!"

He furrowed his eyebrows in the utmost shock, "What?! That doesn't even make sense! How does that-"

You placed two fingers on his lips and shushed him. He gulped then sucked in a sharp breath as you walked away.

"I swear, if you try any funny business I will make sure we never make love again," You threatened and he put his hands out in defence.

*****

3 days later...

"Mommy, where are crayons?" You heard your son call put from upstairs and you stepped towards the staircase.

"They're in your colourful box honey," You said and he shook his head.

"They are gone, I don't know," He hugged onto the stairs railing and you frowned.

"Alright sweetie, I'll search for them after lunch. Come down," You gestured for him to climb down and then walked back towards the dining table.

You looked at James, who was pouring mango juice into a glass, "Do you know where his crayons are-"

THUD! THUMP!

You looked at him with concern, listening to the silence. After a moment, you called out, "[y/s/n]?"

You heard him break into loud crying and you rushed towards where the sound was coming from, with James right behind you.

You gasped when you saw your son at the foot of the stairs, on his side and trying to sit up while tears streamed down his face.

You reached out to pick him up and felt your heart stop thumping when you saw that he had a large red scrape on his knee and a cut on his chin that was bleeding.

James ran to the kitchen and got a cloth and some antiseptic, and a few bandages, then filled a glass of water.

You bounced your son in your arms, rubbing his back and kissing him on the cheek before placing him on the kitchen counter.

He rubbed his eyes and continued to cry loudly, as James poured a little antiseptic on a cloth. "Hold him tight," He said and you nodded your head.

"Baby, daddy is going to make your boo-boos go away okay? But you have to be a strong boy," You told and he nodded his head slowly. You pulled him closer to your waist and he hugged you tightly as James placed the cloth over his knee.

He cried into your shirt and started kicking around, but James had to hold his legs down and continue the procedure. James looked at you then you held your son's head softly and said, "Now daddy needs to fix the big one on your chin okay?"

He nodded his head slowly then looked at his father. James got a tissue and wiped the excess then poured some more antiseptic on the cloth and placed it lightly on his son's chin.

He cried and screamed, no doubt. The cut was a little deep but as quick as it had started James removed the cloth and kissed the stop of his son's head.

"Is it hurting anywhere else?" He asked and [y/s/n] shook his head. James grabbed a few bandages and smiled, "Now because you are such brave young boy, you can put any one you want."

The bandages all had cartoon figures on them, with some from your son's favourite movies and shows. He reached out to take the Cars and the Paw Patrol ones then James removed the paper from behind and gave it to [y/s/n] to stick.

In the mean time you walked over to the refridgertor and took out a scoop of chocolate icecream. Once James was done you gave your son the bowl of icecream and he smiled widely.

You and James stood on either side of him by the counter and watched your son eat happily.

"I don't want to say I told you so but-"

You rolled our eyes and looked to the floor with your arms crossed. "Yes I'm the one to blame, I just..." You ran a hand through your son's hair and smiled softly, "But it was my idea to get the stairs carpeted for this little sport here."

"Wow okay, but who said-"

"Mommy?"

You turned your gaze to your son, "Yes my love?"

He placed the spoon inside the bowl and licked his lips, "Can I cut my hair?"

James covered his mouth to hide his laughter and you punched his arm. You looked back to your son and smiled, "Of course sweetie, whatever you want."

James mouthed the words 'oh my lord' and you glared at him. He shook his head with a chuckle then walked out of the kitchen and towards the living room to relax.