Chapter 190

The Great Ray-Ban Disaster

The disaster happened at exactly 8:17 in the morning.

Not that anyone was counting.

Except Lisa.

Because she had just accidentally sat on Jennie’s favorite Ray-Ban sunglasses.

Crack.

The sound echoed through the kitchen.

Silence followed.

Lisa slowly lifted herself from the dining chair.

Underneath her sat the remains of a very expensive pair of sunglasses.

“…”

“…”

Jennie stared.

Lisa stared.

The glasses stared.

Well, one lens stared. The other one had detached itself from society.

Ruby, sitting at the table eating her cereal, looked between her parents.

“Oh.”

That was all she said.

Jennie picked up the broken sunglasses.

“My Ray-Bans…”

Lisa immediately looked like she had committed a crime.

“Baby.”

Jennie dramatically held the broken glasses to her chest.

“My favorite Ray-Bans.”

“Baby.”

“The ones I bought three years ago.”

“Baby.”

“The ones that survived airports.”

“Baby.”

“The ones that survived Ruby’s toddler phase.”

Ruby pointed at herself.

“Hey.”

Jennie continued.

“And they died because my wife sat on them.”

Lisa looked seconds away from crying.

Ruby sighed.

“Mama is gonna be dramatic.”

—

Lisa spent the next hour apologizing.

Every five minutes.

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lisa.”

“I broke your glasses.”

Jennie was literally drinking coffee.

“It was an accident.”

“I still broke them.”

Ruby watched from the couch.

Then shook her head.

“Whipped.”

Jennie snorted.

Lisa gasped.

“Ruby!”

“What? It’s true.”

—

The spoiling started immediately.

At lunch.

Jennie walked into the dining room and found her favorite food.

All of it.

Every single dish she liked.

There were enough servings to feed a small village.

Jennie blinked.

“Lisa.”

Lisa appeared instantly.

“Yes, baby?”

“Why is there so much food?”

Lisa looked guilty.

“Compensation.”

“For glasses?”

“They were your favorite glasses.”

Ruby nearly choked on her juice.

—

Then came the gifts.

The first package arrived two hours later.

Then another.

Then another.

Then another.

Jennie stood in the living room surrounded by boxes.

“Lisa.”

“Yes?”

“Why are there seven packages?”

Lisa avoided eye contact.

“No reason.”

Jennie opened one.

A new designer handbag.

Another.

A pair of shoes.

Another.

A skincare set.

Another.

A blanket.

Another.

A giant plush capybara.

Jennie looked up.

“…A capybara?”

Lisa nodded.

“You said it was cute.”

“When?”

“Eight months ago.”

Ruby put her face in her hands.

“Mama is insane.”

—

By dinner time Lisa’s guilt had somehow increased.

Not decreased.

Increased.

Jennie sat on the couch.

Immediately a blanket appeared.

Then a pillow.

Then tea.

Then snacks.

Then Lisa herself.

Jennie blinked.

“Why are you acting like I’m injured?”

Lisa looked horrified.

“Your glasses died.”

“My glasses died.”

“Exactly.”

“They weren’t alive.”

“They were important.”

Ruby walked past carrying her duck plushie.

She looked at the setup.

Then at Lisa.

Then at Jennie.

Then at Lisa again.

“You know Mommy isn’t the one that broke them.”

Lisa pointed at herself.

“I know.”

“So why are you treating her like a princess?”

“Because I feel bad.”

Ruby nodded.

“Very whipped.”

—

The next morning got worse.

Or better.

Depending on who you asked.

Jennie woke up to breakfast in bed.

Flowers.

A handwritten apology letter.

And a tiny drawing from Lisa.

The drawing showed a stick figure Lisa crying next to broken sunglasses.

Stick figure Jennie was accepting flowers.

At the bottom it read:

SORRY BABY ❤️

Jennie laughed so hard she almost spilled her coffee.

Ruby climbed onto the bed.

Saw the drawing.

Saw the flowers.

Saw the breakfast.

Then looked at Lisa.

“Mama.”

“Yes?”

“Did you break the glasses or crash a car?”

Lisa looked offended.

“The glasses were important.”

Ruby looked at Jennie.

“Mommy.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you tell Mama you’re not mad?”

“I’ve told her fifty times.”

Ruby looked at Lisa.

“See?”

Lisa crossed her arms.

“I still feel bad.”

Ruby groaned dramatically.

—

Three days later.

Lisa was still spoiling Jennie.

Massages.

Desserts.

Movie nights.

Extra cuddles.

Random gifts.

At one point she bought Jennie another pair of sunglasses.

Then a backup pair.

Then another backup pair.

Jennie finally sat Lisa down on the couch.

“Baby.”

Lisa immediately looked nervous.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I know you feel bad.”

Lisa nodded.

“And I appreciate all this.”

Another nod.

“But sweetheart…”

Jennie gently pinched Lisa’s cheek.

“It was just a pair of glasses.”

Lisa frowned.

“But they were your favorite.”

Jennie smiled.

“You know what’s my favorite?”

“What?”

“You.”

Lisa froze.

Ruby gagged from across the room.

“Eww.”

Jennie ignored her.

“The glasses can be replaced.”

Lisa’s ears turned red.

“But you can’t.”

Lisa instantly melted.

She buried her face into Jennie’s shoulder.

Jennie laughed and hugged her.

Across the room, Ruby watched the scene.

Then she slowly shook her head.

“So whipped.”

Jennie and Lisa looked over.

Ruby pointed at Lisa.

“Mama broke one thing.”

Then she pointed at Jennie.

“And now Mommy has enough gifts to survive until next year.”

Lisa opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“…Maybe.”

Ruby sighed dramatically.

“Hopeless.”

But then she climbed onto the couch and squeezed herself between her parents anyway.

Jennie kissed her forehead.

Lisa kissed her cheek.

Ruby pretended to hate it.

But she was smiling.

And secretly?

She thought having a whipped mama was pretty nice.

Because every time Lisa spoiled Jennie…

Ruby somehow got spoiled too.