If Today Was Your Last Day

“Gut Morgen, babe,” I turned over in bed and just happened to roll so that I was laying directly on top of Tom.

“Gut Morgen,” I grinned back, kissing his chin, trailing butterfly kisses down his neck and to his bare chest.

“The boxes need emptying today. Or unless you plan on moving back to America?” then it hit me. We moved to Germany yesterday morning and we just crashed on the sofa all day, too tired to do anything. But today is Megan’s first day at her new school. Why is she starting so soon? Because we wanted her to start on the first day by at school after the half term holiday and my old workplace wouldn’t let me leave till I had my day off, which was yesterday. Annoying, much?

“Eugh. I hate that part of moving. It took me 3 days to unpack everything when I moved to L.A. And I have to get Megan up so that she can get ready for school. Could you run the bath while I wake her up and get her ready for it? It has to be at a medium heat and lots of bubbles,” I rolled off of Tom and got up from bed, walking past Tom and out of the room, earning a wolf whistle from Tom. That was when I realised I was only wearing a tank top and my panties.

I walked across the landing to Megan’s bedroom and slowly opened the bedroom, making sure it didn’t creek, which luckily it didn’t do. The white door opened wide to reveal a white room filled with boxes and a bed with a sleeping girl laying on it underneath thick covers.

“Megan?” I whispered once I had slowly crept over to her bed, kneeling beside her sleeping form. “Megan. You have to wake up for a bath,” no response. She, like Tom, was a deep sleeper. “Wake up. We’re in Germany,” I gently shook her arm. Still no response. Jesus Christ. She can’t still be tired, can she? She slept most of the plane ride here, then in the car on the way to Tom’s house and then all day yesterday. “Dad’s here too. He’s getting your bath ready,” that was when she jolted awake.

“Morning mom,” she jumped out of her bed and started walking out of her bedroom, stopping when she realised she didn’t know where the bathroom was. Why? Because she slept all day yesterday and didn’t have a look around the house.

“It’s this way,” I took her hand and led her down the landing towards the bathroom, where Tom knelt beside the bath, putting in the soap bubbles for Megan.

“I don’t want dad to see me getting dressed,” Megan whispered to me, her eyes still on Tom. Well, I say she whispered, Tom heard her and stood up, turning the tap off and walking out of the bathroom. “Thank you, dad,” Megan closed the door and began to take off her pyjama top and bottoms and panties, placing them in the washing basket and slowly getting into the bath. “It’s too hot,” she complained.

“You’ll get used to it. Just get in, we don’t have enough time to mess about,” I got a flannel and squirted some of Megan’s body shampoo onto it, gently rubbing it against her body, rinsing the flannel in the bubbly water and rubbing the wet flannel over Megan’s soapy body.

“Dad can come in now,” Megan said as she splashed her hands into the water.

“TOM! COME HERE!” I shouted as I grabbed for Megan’s hair shampoo, flicking open the lid and putting a dollop onto my hand as the bathroom slowly opened, Tom walking in and sitting on the closed toilet seat.

“Daddy look at me,” Tom looked over at Megan, whose face was covered in bubbles. Or in other words, she looked like Santa Claus.

“Sweetie close your eyes,” I rubbed the shampoo into her hair and grabbed the showerhead, turning it on and rinsing out the shampoo and grabbing the bottle of hair conditioner, flicking open the lid and hesitating.

“Tom. Come here,” he slowly stood up from his seated position on the toilet seat and walked over to me, kneeling on the bathroom floor. “You can do it,” I handed Tom the bottle of conditioner and watched as he stared at the bottle with a blank face. “You squirt it onto your hand and then rub it into Megan’s hair,”

“That sounded so wrong in my head,” Tom chuckled as he followed my instructions. Handing him the showerhead, I watched him rinse out the conditioner, leaving Megan’s hair silky... and wet.

“Done! Daddy. You can go now,” I grabbed Megan’s Winnie the Pooh towel and wrapped it around her, helping her out of the bath and drying her off, grabbing her panties, pants, vest and top and helping her dress, brushing her long, dirty blonde hair so that it wasn’t all tangled and knotty.

“Now. We’re going to ask Tom for a lift to school today because we’re going to be late. Go get your school bag,” I began to walk out of the bathroom when I heard a sob behind me.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” I walked back to Megan and wrapped my arms around her, waiting for her to calm down.

“What if it’s the same as in America? I’m scared mommy,” she sobbed, occasionally hiccupping.

“I’m sure it won’t be like that, sweetie. I bet you anything the children there are really nice and you will make lots of friends, okay?” I rubbed her back soothingly, kissing the top of her head.

“Is she okay?” Megan let go of me and ran to Tom who was stood in the bathroom doorway. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around his 6 year old daughter. He hushed into her ear, rubbing her back and just held her tight, not bothered the slightest that her wet hair was slowly soaking through his clothes.

“I’ll take her to school today,” Tom whispered to me. I didn’t answer him. I just stood and stared. Stared as Tom Kaulitz, man-whore of Germany, my boyfriend, was hugging his daughter in our bathroom in our house.