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A/N: My little brother says a lot of things the same way I have James do. He’s inspiration for this. Have fun, R/R!
Green Peas and Sam
by RRP
It took nearly half an hour to clean up the oatmeal, keeping an eye on James at the same time. At first, the toddler consented to help, and even wiped up a streak or two. But he soon became bored and was now sitting in the living room at the coffee table, playing with Sam’s keys. Sam could see him clearly from where he was scrubbing down the kitchen, and he took full advantage of it. His head swung up to check on James every five seconds.
When Sam was done, confident that he had gotten all of the oatmeal, he threw the washcloth in the sink, and strode over to the coffee table. James looked up and grinned at him. Sam couldn’t help but smile back. “Outtide now?” Sam looked James up and down, and finally nodded consent, inwardly dreading the horrors going outside could bring.
“You’ll have to change first.” Sam told him, pocketing his keys as James stood up and regained balance. “Do you know where your sister keeps your clothes?” James nodded surely, while toddling away from the couch.
“Sissy’s bedroom.” He replied cheerfully. Sam froze. Going around the house, cleaning the kitchen, and watching her brother was one thing– going into her bedroom however, was something entirely different. He debated for but a few seconds, mindful of the fact that he didn’t want James to wander off, and made up his mind. He had to go in.
Sam threw James over his shoulder fireman style, making James laugh and wriggle joyfully, and Sam took the stairs by twos. At the top of the stairs, in the hall, there were five doors. All of them were closed. He set James down, and the little boy stumbled in circles. “James, which one is your sister’s room?”
“Dis one.” James proclaimed, struggling with the doorknob of the last door. Sam sighed and opened the door. It looked like a normal bedroom, and Sam slapped himself mentally. What exactly had he been expecting? An icy chamber, or perhaps a vampire’s coffin. He ducked into the room, retrieved the primary colored duffle bag, and the pulled the door closed behind him as he left the room.
It was only a mere fifteen minutes, impatient ones on James’ part, before they were stepping out the back door. James immediately took off after a butterfly, screaming, “Flutterby! Flutterby!” as he chased it. Sam just followed him as he wandered around the yard, stopping to smell a flower or suddenly running after a bug.
Sam looked up at the sky to determine the weather for the rest of the day, and when he looked back down, James shoved a dandelion, roots and dirt and all, into his hand with a comment and a command. “Pretty floor. Hold it. I give it to sissy.” Compliantly, Sam held the flower– wincing as a clod of damp dirt fell on his newly polished shoes.
Sam turned his head back up towards the sky, and made a quick assessment. The sun was shining in the eastern sky, still climbing towards it’s noon-time peak. The earlier promise of a beautiful day was fulfilling local child-prayer demand, and not a cloud threatened rain.
James continued to wander aimlessly about the yard, stopping to retrieve a ‘floor’ and hand it to Sam, or speeding up to chase a ‘flutterby’. Sam had followed him tirelessly, deathly afraid to let him get out of reach or sight– Miss Parker inspired that type of fear in one, and James was a pretty cute kid besides. Even Sam couldn’t help thinking so.
The little boy toddled towards the front of the house, Sam deciding only to herd him back if necessary– he’d like to avoid another tantrum if at all possible. Just as they were nearing the front edge of the house, James turned around suddenly and looked up.
“High and seek?” He asked hopefully, batting his eyelashes and smiling. Sam looked at the weed-flowers in his hand, the collection of which was growing larger by the minute, and he reluctantly agreed.
“Sure, kiddo.”
“You high first, kay?” Sam nodded and rolled his eyes with a muttered, “Yep. I’ll hide first.” James toddled off towards the back of the house again, and Sam looked for a tree to ‘hide’ behind. He found one, and stood behind it dutifully. James counted up to ten without any major mishaps, slightly surprising Sam before he reminded himself that the boy was the child of at least one Pretender-gene carrier.
James ran off in the other direction, looking for Sam behind every twig. He disappeared around the side of the house and started laughing. Nearly a minute passed, and all was suddenly, deathly silent. Sam froze mentally and physically, not able to move or think for a full thirty seconds. And then he snapped into motion, much like earlier before, and rounded the corner of the house at a breakneck speed.
He had expected the worst, and nature served it’s best. James sat in the middle of a muddy spot of ground that was quickly forming a mini flood with water from the garden hose, which had been tucked neatly behind a bush a minute ago. Now, James was making mud pies and the mulch that formed most of the side house landscaping was floating away down the driveway.
Sam turned off the water flow, and snatched James up out of the mud, splattering his suit at the same time– it took a lot of effort, but he once again refrained from cursing in front of the child. James giggled rapturously, and clapped his hands. More mud flew in all directions.
Sam’s long strides carried them towards the house, the Sweeper taking off his shoes as he stepped into the foyer. He already had enough to clean up without scrubbing Miss Parker’s floor. James was laughing still, he apparently thought the entire matter much funnier than the kitchen event that morning.
He once again climbed the stairs, in search of a bathroom with a bathtub– the bigger the faucet, the faster the mud would go away. Sam found the bathroom quite easily, and set James on the closed toilet with a brief command to stay still, which was actually more of a beg. He ran back down the stairs and outside for a quick judgement of the damage done– he had a feeling he’d be paying for landscape remodeling for a while.
Sam paused to bang his head against a wall once or twice to relieve tension on the way back up. Halfway up the stairs, his ears caught the faint strain of a rhythmic thumping noise, and he covered the last few steps in record time, in search of the sound.
Muddy footprints led from the bathroom, to Miss Parker’s room, to another room with a small door. Sam pulled that door open, and found an intrigued looking James sitting on the floor in front of a thumping dryer. “Kid, what’s in that thing?”
“Sissy’s rappit. Rappit was wet.” James replied innocently. Sam jerked the dryer door open as fast as he could, nearly knocking James in the head with the door. A dizzy and flustered looking rabbit was sitting inside, blinking at him warily. James laughed and reached in to pet the white furry creature. The rabbit was too dizzy and bewildered to shrink away or bite the boy, and Sam decided to attempt to put it back in its cage before it regained sense of motion.
He picked it up, holding it cautiously and awkwardly, and moved back into the hall. James toddled after him, one hand grasping Sam’s pant leg and his muddy shoes still trailing mud all over the floor. The earlier spotted footprints led into one other room– Miss Parker’s bedroom.
Sam took a deep breath, and reentered, in search of a rabbit-worthy cage. The cage was found, the rabbit replaced, and James picked up. Sam carefully closed the door after him, and sighed at the mud all over the floor, thankful that Miss Parker’s hallway was wood instead of carpet.
He put James down on the toilet again, with yet another command to stay exactly where he was. Sam turned on the faucet for the bathtub, and made sure the plug was in. Babysitting around his neighborhood as a teenager hadn’t been his choice job, but he had done so once or twice, and had one fact pounded into his skull: When the parent or guardian comes home, they expect the kid to be clean.
Sam growled under his breath when he discovered that there were no serviceable full towels in the bathroom– just hand towels. And that meant he had to go to the laundry room, which he had found not too long ago, with James’ help. He told James to stay put, one more time, for effect, and then dashed out of the room to retrieve a towel.
Finding one was a different matter, however. They weren’t in the laundry room as he had expected, and his second guess was a closet. Which would require finding a closet. Sam looked up and down the hall, and picked the smallest door. He strode over, and swung it open– finally finding that he still had some semblance of luck remaining. The towels were there.
He grabbed one without taking the time to pay attention to which one he took, and was heading back to the bathroom when he heard the toilet flush. And then flush again. He froze, and heard James say in a low voice, “Uh-oh.”
Sam took a brief second to beat his head against the wall again before going in.
by RRP
It took nearly half an hour to clean up the oatmeal, keeping an eye on James at the same time. At first, the toddler consented to help, and even wiped up a streak or two. But he soon became bored and was now sitting in the living room at the coffee table, playing with Sam’s keys. Sam could see him clearly from where he was scrubbing down the kitchen, and he took full advantage of it. His head swung up to check on James every five seconds.
When Sam was done, confident that he had gotten all of the oatmeal, he threw the washcloth in the sink, and strode over to the coffee table. James looked up and grinned at him. Sam couldn’t help but smile back. “Outtide now?” Sam looked James up and down, and finally nodded consent, inwardly dreading the horrors going outside could bring.
“You’ll have to change first.” Sam told him, pocketing his keys as James stood up and regained balance. “Do you know where your sister keeps your clothes?” James nodded surely, while toddling away from the couch.
“Sissy’s bedroom.” He replied cheerfully. Sam froze. Going around the house, cleaning the kitchen, and watching her brother was one thing– going into her bedroom however, was something entirely different. He debated for but a few seconds, mindful of the fact that he didn’t want James to wander off, and made up his mind. He had to go in.
Sam threw James over his shoulder fireman style, making James laugh and wriggle joyfully, and Sam took the stairs by twos. At the top of the stairs, in the hall, there were five doors. All of them were closed. He set James down, and the little boy stumbled in circles. “James, which one is your sister’s room?”
“Dis one.” James proclaimed, struggling with the doorknob of the last door. Sam sighed and opened the door. It looked like a normal bedroom, and Sam slapped himself mentally. What exactly had he been expecting? An icy chamber, or perhaps a vampire’s coffin. He ducked into the room, retrieved the primary colored duffle bag, and the pulled the door closed behind him as he left the room.
It was only a mere fifteen minutes, impatient ones on James’ part, before they were stepping out the back door. James immediately took off after a butterfly, screaming, “Flutterby! Flutterby!” as he chased it. Sam just followed him as he wandered around the yard, stopping to smell a flower or suddenly running after a bug.
Sam looked up at the sky to determine the weather for the rest of the day, and when he looked back down, James shoved a dandelion, roots and dirt and all, into his hand with a comment and a command. “Pretty floor. Hold it. I give it to sissy.” Compliantly, Sam held the flower– wincing as a clod of damp dirt fell on his newly polished shoes.
Sam turned his head back up towards the sky, and made a quick assessment. The sun was shining in the eastern sky, still climbing towards it’s noon-time peak. The earlier promise of a beautiful day was fulfilling local child-prayer demand, and not a cloud threatened rain.
James continued to wander aimlessly about the yard, stopping to retrieve a ‘floor’ and hand it to Sam, or speeding up to chase a ‘flutterby’. Sam had followed him tirelessly, deathly afraid to let him get out of reach or sight– Miss Parker inspired that type of fear in one, and James was a pretty cute kid besides. Even Sam couldn’t help thinking so.
The little boy toddled towards the front of the house, Sam deciding only to herd him back if necessary– he’d like to avoid another tantrum if at all possible. Just as they were nearing the front edge of the house, James turned around suddenly and looked up.
“High and seek?” He asked hopefully, batting his eyelashes and smiling. Sam looked at the weed-flowers in his hand, the collection of which was growing larger by the minute, and he reluctantly agreed.
“Sure, kiddo.”
“You high first, kay?” Sam nodded and rolled his eyes with a muttered, “Yep. I’ll hide first.” James toddled off towards the back of the house again, and Sam looked for a tree to ‘hide’ behind. He found one, and stood behind it dutifully. James counted up to ten without any major mishaps, slightly surprising Sam before he reminded himself that the boy was the child of at least one Pretender-gene carrier.
James ran off in the other direction, looking for Sam behind every twig. He disappeared around the side of the house and started laughing. Nearly a minute passed, and all was suddenly, deathly silent. Sam froze mentally and physically, not able to move or think for a full thirty seconds. And then he snapped into motion, much like earlier before, and rounded the corner of the house at a breakneck speed.
He had expected the worst, and nature served it’s best. James sat in the middle of a muddy spot of ground that was quickly forming a mini flood with water from the garden hose, which had been tucked neatly behind a bush a minute ago. Now, James was making mud pies and the mulch that formed most of the side house landscaping was floating away down the driveway.
Sam turned off the water flow, and snatched James up out of the mud, splattering his suit at the same time– it took a lot of effort, but he once again refrained from cursing in front of the child. James giggled rapturously, and clapped his hands. More mud flew in all directions.
Sam’s long strides carried them towards the house, the Sweeper taking off his shoes as he stepped into the foyer. He already had enough to clean up without scrubbing Miss Parker’s floor. James was laughing still, he apparently thought the entire matter much funnier than the kitchen event that morning.
He once again climbed the stairs, in search of a bathroom with a bathtub– the bigger the faucet, the faster the mud would go away. Sam found the bathroom quite easily, and set James on the closed toilet with a brief command to stay still, which was actually more of a beg. He ran back down the stairs and outside for a quick judgement of the damage done– he had a feeling he’d be paying for landscape remodeling for a while.
Sam paused to bang his head against a wall once or twice to relieve tension on the way back up. Halfway up the stairs, his ears caught the faint strain of a rhythmic thumping noise, and he covered the last few steps in record time, in search of the sound.
Muddy footprints led from the bathroom, to Miss Parker’s room, to another room with a small door. Sam pulled that door open, and found an intrigued looking James sitting on the floor in front of a thumping dryer. “Kid, what’s in that thing?”
“Sissy’s rappit. Rappit was wet.” James replied innocently. Sam jerked the dryer door open as fast as he could, nearly knocking James in the head with the door. A dizzy and flustered looking rabbit was sitting inside, blinking at him warily. James laughed and reached in to pet the white furry creature. The rabbit was too dizzy and bewildered to shrink away or bite the boy, and Sam decided to attempt to put it back in its cage before it regained sense of motion.
He picked it up, holding it cautiously and awkwardly, and moved back into the hall. James toddled after him, one hand grasping Sam’s pant leg and his muddy shoes still trailing mud all over the floor. The earlier spotted footprints led into one other room– Miss Parker’s bedroom.
Sam took a deep breath, and reentered, in search of a rabbit-worthy cage. The cage was found, the rabbit replaced, and James picked up. Sam carefully closed the door after him, and sighed at the mud all over the floor, thankful that Miss Parker’s hallway was wood instead of carpet.
He put James down on the toilet again, with yet another command to stay exactly where he was. Sam turned on the faucet for the bathtub, and made sure the plug was in. Babysitting around his neighborhood as a teenager hadn’t been his choice job, but he had done so once or twice, and had one fact pounded into his skull: When the parent or guardian comes home, they expect the kid to be clean.
Sam growled under his breath when he discovered that there were no serviceable full towels in the bathroom– just hand towels. And that meant he had to go to the laundry room, which he had found not too long ago, with James’ help. He told James to stay put, one more time, for effect, and then dashed out of the room to retrieve a towel.
Finding one was a different matter, however. They weren’t in the laundry room as he had expected, and his second guess was a closet. Which would require finding a closet. Sam looked up and down the hall, and picked the smallest door. He strode over, and swung it open– finally finding that he still had some semblance of luck remaining. The towels were there.
He grabbed one without taking the time to pay attention to which one he took, and was heading back to the bathroom when he heard the toilet flush. And then flush again. He froze, and heard James say in a low voice, “Uh-oh.”
Sam took a brief second to beat his head against the wall again before going in.
