46 | ☕ Baby Shower Olympics ☕ #3
She couldn't seem to get it right—a piece of the doll's little body kept falling out as she attempted to wrap it.
She bounced the doll clumsily, becoming increasingly angry with each passing second.
"Come on, baby, just settle down!" she muttered, but the louder she became, the more frantic her motions were. It felt like everything she tried only made the toy cry louder. She shot a glance at Atlas, and the sight of him calming his baby with ease made her even more flustered.
"Anya, calm down!" Kaia called, unable to suppress her giggle. "You're stressing the baby out even more!"
"Easy for you to say!" Anya shot back, still desperately trying to calm her toy. "It's malfunctioning! I swear it!"
Atlas, completely calm, shot her a glance.
His eyes twinkled with quiet amusement, but his hands never faltered.
The baby in his arms had fallen quiet, the doll now nestled peacefully, eyes closed, as he gently patted its back.
He even gave a quick, subtle sign with his hands—something Anya had come to recognize as his way of assuring her that everything would be fine.
Anya, however, was starting to panic. She bounced her toy harder, whispering to it as if it could hear her, but the baby's wails were deafening.
She glanced at Atlas again, feeling her own face heat up in frustration.
His baby was perfectly calm. Hers, meanwhile, was about to set off an earthquake with its cries.
Kaia, holding in her laughter, called out, "Alright, Anya! You're running out of time!"
Anya quickly glanced at the timer, realizing the seconds were ticking away.
The louder the baby cried, the more she fumbled.
She looked over at Atlas again, catching him as he signed with a fluid motion—his hands communicating something to her.
He wasn't just patting the baby's back anymore; he was calmly signing the words: "Breathe. Slow down."
Anya blinked, briefly lost in the simplicity of his communication, yet the words struck a chord with her. Breathe. She realized she'd been hurrying through everything, her stress rising as she struggled against the ticking clock. She took a deep breath and did her best to calm herself down.
But the toy still screamed.
The buzzer finally sounded, and Kaia stepped forward with a wide grin. "Alright, alright, time's up!"
Anya slumped in defeat. "These dolls are rigged," she muttered dramatically.
Atlas, on the other hand, had already finished. His baby was completely quiet, wrapped tightly and calmly nestled in his arms. He shot Anya a soft, reassuring smile and signed again: "You'll get it next time."
Anya couldn't help but chuckle, despite herself. "I swear, Atlas, you're secretly a parenting prodigy."
Atlas shrugged with a small, playful smirk, then signed: "Practice."
Kaia, looking over at the two competitors, smiled. "Looks like Atlas wins this round, again."
Anya threw her hands up in surrender, leaning back in her seat. "Alright, fine. You win. But I'm definitely practicing more next time."
Atlas gave her a thumbs-up, then signed again: "No rush. Just relax."
Anya shook her head with a smile, already plotting her next move. "Just you wait, babe. I'll be back with a vengeance."
Atlas gave her an amused look, his eyes glinting with the promise of future competition. Then, he signed again, this time with a teasing grin: "I'm not scared."
Anya rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. "We'll see who's the better parent in the end, Atlas."
Kaia stood proudly in front of a small plastic baby bathtub she'd just set up in the middle of the living room.
The entire thing looked like it belonged in a preschool class: pastel-coloured towels, a tiny bottle of no-tears shampoo, a rubber ducky floating in the warm water, and—of course—a disturbingly lifelike baby doll sitting beside it.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Okay, last bonus round! This one's all about precision, patience, and maternal instinct..." She raised her hands like a game show host revealing the final prize. "Baby Bath Time!"
Anya raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Seriously? That's the challenge?"
Atlas leaned over, curious, hands poised to sign. He glanced at the setup, then raised a single brow at Kaia like he was questioning her sanity.
Kaia caught his expression and nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! You have to bathe the baby correctly. That means no submerging the entire thing underwater like you're baptizing it in a river, no soap in the eyes, and definitely no head bonks on the tub edge."
She gave a pointed look at Anya.
Anya gasped, hand on her chest in mock offense. "Why do I feel like that was directed at me?"
Kaia smirked. "Because it was."
Anya grinned and grabbed her doll. "Relax. I've got this. Babies love water. I was practically born in a pool."
Atlas signed quickly, a soft smirk tugging at his lips."This is going to be a disaster."
Kaia burst out laughing. "He says you're gonna flood the living room."
"Pfft," Anya muttered, positioning the doll above the tub. "I'm a natural."
Atlas, meanwhile, was methodical as always. He accepted the laminated instruction sheet Kaia handed him, scanned it intently, and began mentally mapping out the steps. His fingers moved quickly in mid-air as he signed small reminders to himself:
"Check water temperature. Neck support. Gentle soap. Towel ready."
While Atlas prepared his workspace with surgical focus—rolling the tiny towel neatly, testing the water with his wrist, organizing the soap and sponge in perfect reach—Anya took a much... bolder approach.
"Alright, baby," she said to her doll with confidence, lifting it like she was about to throw it into a kiddie pool. "Let's make a splash!"
And she plunked the doll straight into the tub. Face first.
A dramatic splash sent water sloshing over the edge of the basin, soaking Kaia's socks.
"ANYA!" Kaia screeched, eyes wide with betrayal. "You can't just throw it in like you're washing a potato!"
Anya flinched. "It's fine! Look, it's smiling—see?"
The doll was most certainly not smiling.
Atlas paused, stared at the soaking mess, then closed his eyes and slowly brought a hand to his face in a silent, theatrical facepalm.
He signed with exaggerated slowness, "We're going to need a professional."
"Drama queens, both of you," Anya muttered, scooping water over the doll's plastic head with her hand like she was trying to extinguish a fire. "There. Rinse complete. Spa day achieved."
Atlas rolled his eyes and went back to bathing his doll with precision. He gently lowered it into the water, one hand cradling the head, the other pouring warm water along its back with a tiny scoop. His movements were slow, careful, and oddly tender—like he'd practiced a thousand times.
Kaia was impressed. "Look at that. Neck support, water control, zero casualties."
Anya scoffed from her side of the tub, where her baby doll was now floating sideways, half-wrapped in a soapy towel like a forgotten dish sponge.
"This baby is high-maintenance," she muttered. "And possibly judging me."
"You drowned it," Kaia deadpanned. "Of course it's judging you."
Atlas finished his bath routine by lifting the doll out of the water with both hands, swaddling it perfectly into the towel with practiced ease. The doll looked like a little burrito—clean, dry, and eerily peaceful.