Dear Diary,
This morning I was feeding the baby and getting Michael ready for school, as usual, when Mr. Corinthos came upstairs and told me to pack our things for the island. I asked him why, and all he could say was "Things have been too stable in this household! Too secure! Kids need change!"
A little while later I heard Mrs. Morgan screaming downstairs. "NO TAKE BABY! BABY MINE!"
Mrs. Corinthos seemed to agree with her. "It sure as hell isn't mine! I don't know why we have to take those brats with us. I thought we were leaving the penthouse to get away from them! But Sonny wants us all to go, and you know how Sonny is about getting what he wants."
Mrs. Morgan grunted in agreement. "Sonny big bully."
"He sure as hell is!" said Mrs. Corinthos. "And he likes having those rugrats around for some reason. Maybe they make him feel taller."
Good theory, I thought as I finished packing. We left without further incident: Mrs. Morgan is much better about controlling her temper in Mr. Corinthos' presence, restraining herself to punching a hole in the wall as I carried the baby out the door.
After our standard fifteen minute flight to the island (how does such a small plane fly to the Caribbean so quickly?) Michael and I had some time to ourselves to settle in. "Mommy, why do we have so spend so much time with Mumble Daddy and the scary lady? You promised that after her baby was born, they'd forget all about us! I wish she would go back to sleep! And I don't like that baby! He stares at me funny!"
I soothed him as best I could, but he's right about the baby. There's something strange, eerie, about the way it stares at us without ever blinking. Babies can't really focus their eyes at that age, but this one seems to be watching us all the time.