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Birthright

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“Sweetheart,” Shawn said, gently prying the little girl away from her rabbit friend, “Mister Floppenmeyer is not a toy.”

The baby squealed her disappointment in his ear, and Gus snickered into her fist. “Madeline, be good for your daddy.”

“Listen to your gorgeous, intelligent mammadaddy,” Shawn pouted.

“You did not call me that!” Madeline squeaked and yanked at her father’s necklace. “That’s right, girl, defend your daddy!”

Shawn whined and untangled her fingers. “Those are exotic shells from the sandy shores of Hawaii!”

“You told me you got them from a frat guy during a poker game.”

“And they’re her birthright,” Shawn said dramatically. “One day she’ll be able to sell these for the college education I never wanted!”

“Oh, she’ll need more than that. Our baby’s going to be going to Harvard!” He nodded his head.

“That’s right, the most Ivy-encrusted of all Ivy leagues! How about that, honey?”

Madeline responded to this plan by spitting up directly into Shawn’s face.