not_that_spike (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
not_that_spike) wrote2006-12-17 07:21 pm
not_that_spike) wrote2006-12-17 07:21 pm
(no subject)
Beth Junior's propped up in his lap and he's got the book out so she can see it. It's a stupid book, but it's also kind of funny and he figures it can't hurt to read to her, no matter how much or how little she actually understands. At least the colors are bright and the words have an easy cadence to them, so he keeps on while Beth's brushing her teeth.
"A green dog over a tree." That's ridiculous; he points to a green dog flying a yellow helicopter. Dogs don't know how to be pilots... not that he's going to burst Junior's bubble on that one or anything. Somewhere deep inside he still holds onto this stubborn idea of a house on Venus with the three of them, maybe a big dog like he had when he was a kid, working in the yard with his NO DAMN SYNDICATE OWNS ME t-shirt declaring his status proudly.
Yeah, right: as if.
"A yellow dog under a tree. Look, Junior, this one's reading, just like we are."
He covets the dog's hammock.
"Two dogs in a house on a boat in the water." The dogs' house has a diving board: that's practical. "A dog over the water. A dog under the water. A... knock at the door. Hold that thought." Setting aside Go, Dog. Go! for the time being, he scoops up Little Beth and, after a glance at the bathroom to make sure Beth's got all the privacy she needs -- that bathroom door never gets closed quite all the way in here any more -- he moves to the room door. They're not expecting anyone, but people have been known to drop by. It's probably Elaine.
"Yo." He pulls the door open about halfway; Beth Junior turns her wobbly little head with a curious but huge grin that serves as its own damn welcoming committee. She's so precious, so sweet, so innocent. He hopes that never changes. And then it's his turn to smile. "Hey. Great, you found the place." Taking just a moment, he sets the number 8 back up on its bottom, but it's going to fall over onto its side again any second now; he's so used to that. "Come on in."
"A green dog over a tree." That's ridiculous; he points to a green dog flying a yellow helicopter. Dogs don't know how to be pilots... not that he's going to burst Junior's bubble on that one or anything. Somewhere deep inside he still holds onto this stubborn idea of a house on Venus with the three of them, maybe a big dog like he had when he was a kid, working in the yard with his NO DAMN SYNDICATE OWNS ME t-shirt declaring his status proudly.
Yeah, right: as if.
"A yellow dog under a tree. Look, Junior, this one's reading, just like we are."
He covets the dog's hammock.
"Two dogs in a house on a boat in the water." The dogs' house has a diving board: that's practical. "A dog over the water. A dog under the water. A... knock at the door. Hold that thought." Setting aside Go, Dog. Go! for the time being, he scoops up Little Beth and, after a glance at the bathroom to make sure Beth's got all the privacy she needs -- that bathroom door never gets closed quite all the way in here any more -- he moves to the room door. They're not expecting anyone, but people have been known to drop by. It's probably Elaine.
"Yo." He pulls the door open about halfway; Beth Junior turns her wobbly little head with a curious but huge grin that serves as its own damn welcoming committee. She's so precious, so sweet, so innocent. He hopes that never changes. And then it's his turn to smile. "Hey. Great, you found the place." Taking just a moment, he sets the number 8 back up on its bottom, but it's going to fall over onto its side again any second now; he's so used to that. "Come on in."