Evan sighed, accepting his fate. Your son, Jace, kept hitting his face with his stuffed animal. Evan looked up at the ceiling. "”God, help me.”" He thought to himself. “Hey.. stop it..” He said tiredly, gently taking the stuffed animal out of Jace’s hand. He pouted before he climed into Evan’s lap, slapping his face with both his small hands. Evan groaned, giving up. You were upstairs taking a quick nap, completely unaware that any of this was happening.