The minute I walked into the living room all eyes were on me. They had heard crying and wanted to know what was going on. I looked towards my wife who was now sitting next to my parents. "Clare," I started, my voice steady. "Where's the thermometer?"
"Oh no!" My wife sighed. She rose to her feet and put one hand on her lower back for support. "Is she asleep?"
I nodded. "Yeah, but she's rather warm."
"I'll go check on her," Clare told me, walking over towards where I was standing. She glanced down at Zoë who was sitting on the floor looking up at us holding her Barbie in her hands. My wife looked at me.
I nodded, knowing what she was thinking. "Yeah, better check her too. Better safe then sorry."
"Come on, Zoë," her mother said holding out a hand to our daughter.
"What's going on?" Zoë asked standing up and taking Clare's hand.
I put my hand on Zoë's forehead and kissed the top of her head quickly. "Anya might have a fever and we just want to make sure that you don't have one."
"Daddy, no!" Zoë exclaimed. Clare held onto our daughter's hand tightly so she couldn't pull away.
"Zoë please!" Clare begged. I took Zoë's hand from her mother's so Clare wouldn't have to fight. "Mommy's just going to take your temperature, that's all honey!"
"No," Zoë pleaded. "Please Mommy! Daddy! You know it messes up my ear!"
I knelt down in front of my daughter. "I know, honey. We'll be gentle, I promise." Zoë glanced at Clare and then back at me. She hesitated and then nodded slowly. "That's my girl," I praised picking her up off the floor, "Daddy's Little Princess."