MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

Damon laid on the bed, one arm tucked under his head. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of sheets.

Ava, now fully awake, sat beside him in her oversized sleep shirt.

Her hair was a bit messy from tossing in her crib, and she still had the kind of soft energy that came from just waking up.

"Hey, baby. You okay?" Damon asked softly, turning his head toward her.

Ava moved toward him with a sleepy wobble, crawling over and flopping down on his chest like a pillow. "Dadaaaa…"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm here."

She rested her cheek against him, then suddenly lifted her head with a small pout. "Hungry…"

Damon blinked. "Already?"

She nodded slowly. "Tummy say grrr…"

He laughed again, rubbing her back. "Alright, alright. We'll go make something."

Ava tapped his face with her tiny hand. "Pannycake?"

Damon looked at the clock. "You serious?"

"Pannycake," she repeated, now confident.

He sighed, then smiled. "You got it."

Ava giggled and clapped once, like a deal had been sealed.

As Damon got up, carrying her in one arm, he glanced at the calendar on the wall.

The next few days were going to get busy again.

But for now, pancakes.

Damon moved through the kitchen barefoot, carrying Ava on one arm while she clung to his hoodie collar like a sleepy koala.

The early morning light had barely started to creep through the blinds.

The world outside was quiet. Inside, it was just the two of them.

He set her down gently on the counter, away from anything hot or sharp. "Okay, boss. You said pancakes."

Ava nodded seriously, her tiny feet kicking the cabinet below. "Pannycake."

Damon pulled out a mixing bowl, flour, eggs, and milk. He cracked one egg with practiced ease.

Ava watched carefully. "Eck broke."

"Yeah. That's the idea."

He handed her a spoon, one too big for her hands, but she gripped it like a pro.

"Can you stir this for Daddy?"

She dipped the spoon into the flour and stirred in a slow, messy circle. Most of it stayed in the bowl. Some landed on the counter. And some dusted her cheek.

Damon glanced at her and grinned. "You're hired."

Ava blinked at him, confused. "Hi-ed?"

"It means you got the job." He ruffled her hair gently and added milk to the bowl.

Together, they stirred and talked, well, Damon stirred, and Ava made up words that sounded important. Once the batter was ready, he poured the first circle into the pan.

The sizzle made her eyes widen. "Hot!"

"Yup. So we stay far, alright?"

Ava nodded seriously. "Hot. No touch."

He flipped the pancake, then handed her a small bowl with a blueberry or two. "Here. Snack while you wait."

She grabbed one, popped it in her mouth, and smiled like it was the best thing she ever tasted. "Blue-blee good."

"Blueberry," he corrected gently.

"Blue-blee," she insisted.

"Alright, blue-blee it is."

They stacked three small pancakes on a plastic plate with cartoon animals printed on it.

Damon added a tiny drizzle of syrup and cut them into pieces. He sat her down in her booster chair, tied the bib on, and gave her the plate.

Ava shoved a piece into her mouth and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Mmm…"

"You like it?"

She didn't answer, just shoved in another bite.

Damon leaned on the counter, watching her eat, her tiny legs swinging back and forth.

Ava munched on another pancake bite, then paused mid-chew. She looked around the quiet kitchen, then turned her eyes up to Damon.

"Where Mommy?"

Damon walked over and sat beside her, resting his arm on the table. "She's trying on dresses today."

Ava blinked. "Why?"

"Because she wants to look beautiful for our wedding."

Ava tilted her head. "What's weddin'?"

"It's when Mommy and Daddy get married."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "What's marrit?"

Damon smiled, already expecting the next question. "It's when two people love each other, and they decide to live together forever."

"Why?"

"Because they want to be a team. Like me and Mommy. Like me and you."

Ava tapped her sticky finger on the table. "Me too?"

"Yeah, you're part of the team. Number one member."

She thought about it for a second. "Can I have dress too?"

"Of course," Damon said, wiping syrup off her chin. "You'll have a pretty one. You're gonna be the flower girl."

Ava looked confused again. "What's flow'r girl?"

Damon laughed under his breath and leaned back. "You walk down before Mommy, and you toss little flowers. It's a special job."

Ava raised her arms. "I do it!"

He nodded. "You will."

She pointed to her pancake. "But I eat first."

"Good idea." Damon picked up a small piece from her plate and popped it into his own mouth. "Let's finish breakfast. Then maybe we call Mommy, yeah?"

Ava grinned, mouth full. "Tell her 'I got dress!'"

Damon reached for his phone. "Yeah. Let's tell her that."

Damon enjoyed time with his daughter more than anything. She made even the slowest mornings feel like small adventures.

Every conversation with her was unpredictable.

One second she was asking about pancakes, the next she was pointing at the ceiling and asking why the light "stays up."

Some questions were easy to answer. Others made him pause.

Not because he didn't know the answer but because explaining it to someone so young, so fresh to the world, forced him to think in simpler terms.

And that simplicity made things feel more real.

Ava, barely two, was curious about everything. She'd ask why water was wet, why shoes had laces, or why birds didn't fall from the sky.

Damon always tried to answer, sometimes with facts, sometimes with made-up stories just to see her giggle.

Her favorite word lately was "why," and even when it wore him out, it made him smile.

It reminded him how much she was growing, how fast time was moving.

These were moments he'd never get back, and he knew that. So he let her ask. He let her talk. He let her climb onto his lap with sticky fingers and wide eyes.

This was his peace. This was his balance. And every day with her reminded him why he fought so hard outside the house, to keep everything inside it safe.