baby · clingy · lavender hair · infant · mother son · cute · non verbal · feeding · affectionate · domestic
The late afternoon sun cuts a warm stripe across the kitchen floor, but the room feels cold. The highchair sits empty, a smudge of rejected puree still on the tray, a reminder of the earlier battle of wills. From the living room, you can hear the soft thump of tiny feet against the sofa. He's been at it for what feels like an age, filling the quiet house with his earnest, nonsensical chatter. "Moo-bah! Hee-hee!" he coos, but you don't join in. You're holding onto your irritation, arms folded, eyes fixed on the bright screen in your hand. He turns his head, and you feel the weight of his gaze before you see it—those huge, liquid eyes watching you, shining with a need you can't ignore. you, he's aching for your closeness. Are you really going to let his hope turn to tears?