MMAM Week 44: Daycare
Prompt: By threebooks3. Sherlock at a daycare. Either as an adult or as a child.
Characters: Sherlock, John, Moriarty
Rating: G
Warnings: Not really necessary, but it's pretty damn cute.
With a kiss and a pat on the head, Sherlock's mother had condemned him to a day with... children.
Not that he wasn't a child himself - he was just four in a room with two to five year olds - but he couldn't stand it. Sherlock had never been one to fraternize with kids his age. He found them boring and slow.
In a few minutes (mind you, he was four), he sized up the teacher and shortly thereafter, he had the entire class figured from the bullies to the crybabies. The teacher was in her mid-twenties, far too bubbly to be normal and slightly overdressed for her job.
"Class!" She called. "It's time for crafts!"
The toddlers gathered at the tiny tables where crayons, colouring books, paper, and play dough had been set out.
Almost immediately, one of the four year olds started eating play dough like it was candy and one of the bullies started throwing crayons. Sherlock tried to busy himself by crafting a DNA model with the colour-muddled play dough when a paper ball hit him in the head. He looked up to see one of the bullies snickering.
"Stop that!" One of the younger kids pipped, glaring at the bully.
Sherlock looked the boy over. He was small, one of the three year olds, in his estimation, blonde and blue eyed, and incredibly brave to stand up to a five year old in Sherlock's defense.
"What's your name?" He asked the boy.
"John. What's yours?"
"Sherlock. Who's he?" He nodded at the other boy.
"Jim. I don't like him. He's always mean. Especially to new people."
Sherlock was impressed by how articulate John was. Most three year olds he knew could hardly put together coherent sentences, much less use the word "especially."
"What are you making?" John asked.
"A DNA model. This play dough isn't very good though."
"I have one of those! My mum gave it to me for Christmas."
"What about you? What are you making?"
John held up his project. It was a gun made out of the play dough. John smiled as he held it out in front of him, pointed it at Jim and said, "Pow!"
The boys laughed as the teacher called the end of craft time. She brought them to the rug with colored squares and showed them paper snowflakes.
"Class, today we're going to learn a song about snowflakes."
Then, the woman began to sing (relatively well, Sherlock noted).
"Sing a song of snowflakes,
White and soft and cool;
Four and twenty children
Running home from school.
Hear their laughter ringing
As they shout and play;
What jolly fun they're having
On this snowy winter day!"
Sherlock raised his hand then. "Isn't that supposed to be "Sing a Song of Sixpenc?""
The teacher bit her lip. "We're not going to learn that version, Sherlock." Then, she turned back to the class. "Who wants to sing that with me?"
The class eagerly volunteered and they all learned the song. They also learned a couple other songs that involved holding hands and dancing (after which Sherlock begged the teacher to let him wash his hands).
After more crafts, outside play, "learning" time, and the ABC's (a basic spelling lesson), Sherlock was dying. He was glad that it was lunch time and that John was around to laugh with. Over their sandwiches, the two conspired to escape.
"We could use bathroom time to get out." Sherlock offered. "You use the buddy system, right? The gate is right there."
John shook his head. "I don't know how to get home."
"I can figure it out."
"You know you can't get out, right?"
Jim was walking around, his tray full of food he had stolen from various youngsters. He smirked at the other boys.
"If you try, I'll tell." He said.
"Why would you do that?" Sherlock asked, standing.
"Because I want to see you in trouble." Jim replied.
"Come along, class!" The teacher called before Sherlock could say anything further to Jim. Jim smiled wider.
"Story time." He said, stuffing the spare food in his pockets and going inside.
After story time was nap time followed by more craft time. Sherlock finished his DNA model with a little help from John in finding the right colors that hadn't been mixed. They also mapped out the school with blocks during their time with table toys.
As the two were finishing, Jim decided to knock John in the head with a toy train. John shrieked and Sherlock sprang to his feet. He chased Jim around for a moment, pinning him to the ground.
"Why did you do that?!" Sherlock demanded. Jim just laughed as the teacher lifted Sherlock off of him.
"Sherlock Holmes, that is not how we handle things here." The teacher scolded. "Jim, in the corner.
Sherlock, over there. Face the wall."
She directed the boys to corners on opposite sides of the room while she attended to John's bleeding head. Sherlock was interested to find that John hadn't been crying after he cried out. He wanted to watch him, but the teacher kept reminding him that looking away from the wall would result in a longer time out.
The five minutes staring at the wall made Sherlock's brain feel like it was rotting out of his head. The plain wall was so boring. When his time was up, he practically ran to John.
"I need some mental stimulation." He said, his features slightly glazed.
"Here." John handed him a Rubik's cube.
"This is amazing..."
Sherlock spent the rest of free play time figuring and refiguring the cube, asking John to remix the colours when he solved it. Sherlock's intensity made John laugh.
At the end of the day, the teacher pulled Sherlock, John, and Jim's mothers aside to discuss the problems that had occurred that day. Jim was busy hunting for scissors to cut up important papers with and John was still watching Sherlock solve the Rubik's cube.
"You can keep that if you want." He said as Sherlock made the last turn of the solve.
"Really?"
"Sure. I could never figure it out anyway."
"Sherlock, time to go home." Sherlock's mother called. "We'll talk about what happened with your father."
"Coming, mum." He said, turning back to John. "See you tomorrow?"
John nodded, smiling. "Bye."
On the ride home, Sherlock decided that maybe daycare wouldn't be so bad.
Characters: Sherlock, John, Moriarty
Rating: G
Warnings: Not really necessary, but it's pretty damn cute.
With a kiss and a pat on the head, Sherlock's mother had condemned him to a day with... children.
Not that he wasn't a child himself - he was just four in a room with two to five year olds - but he couldn't stand it. Sherlock had never been one to fraternize with kids his age. He found them boring and slow.
In a few minutes (mind you, he was four), he sized up the teacher and shortly thereafter, he had the entire class figured from the bullies to the crybabies. The teacher was in her mid-twenties, far too bubbly to be normal and slightly overdressed for her job.
"Class!" She called. "It's time for crafts!"
The toddlers gathered at the tiny tables where crayons, colouring books, paper, and play dough had been set out.
Almost immediately, one of the four year olds started eating play dough like it was candy and one of the bullies started throwing crayons. Sherlock tried to busy himself by crafting a DNA model with the colour-muddled play dough when a paper ball hit him in the head. He looked up to see one of the bullies snickering.
"Stop that!" One of the younger kids pipped, glaring at the bully.
Sherlock looked the boy over. He was small, one of the three year olds, in his estimation, blonde and blue eyed, and incredibly brave to stand up to a five year old in Sherlock's defense.
"What's your name?" He asked the boy.
"John. What's yours?"
"Sherlock. Who's he?" He nodded at the other boy.
"Jim. I don't like him. He's always mean. Especially to new people."
Sherlock was impressed by how articulate John was. Most three year olds he knew could hardly put together coherent sentences, much less use the word "especially."
"What are you making?" John asked.
"A DNA model. This play dough isn't very good though."
"I have one of those! My mum gave it to me for Christmas."
"What about you? What are you making?"
John held up his project. It was a gun made out of the play dough. John smiled as he held it out in front of him, pointed it at Jim and said, "Pow!"
The boys laughed as the teacher called the end of craft time. She brought them to the rug with colored squares and showed them paper snowflakes.
"Class, today we're going to learn a song about snowflakes."
Then, the woman began to sing (relatively well, Sherlock noted).
"Sing a song of snowflakes,
White and soft and cool;
Four and twenty children
Running home from school.
Hear their laughter ringing
As they shout and play;
What jolly fun they're having
On this snowy winter day!"
Sherlock raised his hand then. "Isn't that supposed to be "Sing a Song of Sixpenc?""
The teacher bit her lip. "We're not going to learn that version, Sherlock." Then, she turned back to the class. "Who wants to sing that with me?"
The class eagerly volunteered and they all learned the song. They also learned a couple other songs that involved holding hands and dancing (after which Sherlock begged the teacher to let him wash his hands).
After more crafts, outside play, "learning" time, and the ABC's (a basic spelling lesson), Sherlock was dying. He was glad that it was lunch time and that John was around to laugh with. Over their sandwiches, the two conspired to escape.
"We could use bathroom time to get out." Sherlock offered. "You use the buddy system, right? The gate is right there."
John shook his head. "I don't know how to get home."
"I can figure it out."
"You know you can't get out, right?"
Jim was walking around, his tray full of food he had stolen from various youngsters. He smirked at the other boys.
"If you try, I'll tell." He said.
"Why would you do that?" Sherlock asked, standing.
"Because I want to see you in trouble." Jim replied.
"Come along, class!" The teacher called before Sherlock could say anything further to Jim. Jim smiled wider.
"Story time." He said, stuffing the spare food in his pockets and going inside.
After story time was nap time followed by more craft time. Sherlock finished his DNA model with a little help from John in finding the right colors that hadn't been mixed. They also mapped out the school with blocks during their time with table toys.
As the two were finishing, Jim decided to knock John in the head with a toy train. John shrieked and Sherlock sprang to his feet. He chased Jim around for a moment, pinning him to the ground.
"Why did you do that?!" Sherlock demanded. Jim just laughed as the teacher lifted Sherlock off of him.
"Sherlock Holmes, that is not how we handle things here." The teacher scolded. "Jim, in the corner.
Sherlock, over there. Face the wall."
She directed the boys to corners on opposite sides of the room while she attended to John's bleeding head. Sherlock was interested to find that John hadn't been crying after he cried out. He wanted to watch him, but the teacher kept reminding him that looking away from the wall would result in a longer time out.
The five minutes staring at the wall made Sherlock's brain feel like it was rotting out of his head. The plain wall was so boring. When his time was up, he practically ran to John.
"I need some mental stimulation." He said, his features slightly glazed.
"Here." John handed him a Rubik's cube.
"This is amazing..."
Sherlock spent the rest of free play time figuring and refiguring the cube, asking John to remix the colours when he solved it. Sherlock's intensity made John laugh.
At the end of the day, the teacher pulled Sherlock, John, and Jim's mothers aside to discuss the problems that had occurred that day. Jim was busy hunting for scissors to cut up important papers with and John was still watching Sherlock solve the Rubik's cube.
"You can keep that if you want." He said as Sherlock made the last turn of the solve.
"Really?"
"Sure. I could never figure it out anyway."
"Sherlock, time to go home." Sherlock's mother called. "We'll talk about what happened with your father."
"Coming, mum." He said, turning back to John. "See you tomorrow?"
John nodded, smiling. "Bye."
On the ride home, Sherlock decided that maybe daycare wouldn't be so bad.