Bat's First Words
[Future!fic for nokidflash! Happy Birthday! I hope you have a fantastic day! ♥ As per usual, characters used without permission but with loooove, future-fic, non-binding, etc, etc.]
The King-Jones-Allen home could hardly be described as "quiet," especially since Bat had started talking. Though "talking" was a loose term. Mainly he babbled. And babbled. And babbled some more. Cissie said that at least they always knew where he was, and that if it was ever quiet, they would know something was wrong. Bart pointed out that Ick had taught them to be scared when things got quiet a long time ago, and Cissie had to concede the point. But Bat's babbling still served as an excellent homing beacon.
One afternoon, Cissie had taken the twins to a doctor's appointment, Ick was upstairs doing her homework and Bart was making dinner. Or channel surfing before making dinner. Bat sat in his playpen, happily chattering and burbling away at his toys. Bart was splitting his attention between the television, Bat and listening for noises from Ick upstairs--if he didn't hear anything for another minute, he was going to go see what she was doing--so he didn't immediately notice when Bat's babbling started sounding like words.
He sat up and looked over at his youngest son, who was standing up in the playpen and looking back at him. "Dadadadadadad-dad-dad!"
"Dad?" Bart repeated, stunned.
"Dad-dad!" Bat chirped cheerfully.
He hadn't finished the second syllable before Bart was scooping him out of the playpen. "You said Dad!"
"Dad-dad," Bat replied solemnly, patting Bart's cheek and pulling on his ear.
Bart grinned and spun around, looking for someone to celebrate with. It figured that Cissie wasn't home. When was she getting home? Bart glanced at a clock, made a face and ran upstairs with Bat to Ick's room. "Ick! Bat's talking!"
His daughter turned to look at him, clearly skeptical. "He's always talking, Dad."
"No, with real words! He said Dad!"
"Dad-dad!" Bat cried, happily yanking on Bart's hair. "Dad-dad-dad-dad-damn!"
Bart froze. Ick's eyes opened wide. Bat smacked Bart between the eyes.
"Uh. Did he just say what I think he just said?"
"No," Bart said emphatically. "He said... Hoover Dam! Without the Hoover."
"Damn-damn-bam!"
Bart gave a relieved exhale. "Oh. He's just babbling."
Ick raised an eyebrow at him and reached out to take Bat when he leaned toward her, arms outstretched. "I don't know, Dad. Do you think Mom will buy that?"
Bart opened his mouth to answer, and Bat cried out, "Damn Dad! Dad damn! Dad-dad-dad-dad-damn-damn-damn-it!"
Bart felt his mouth drop open. Ick muttered, "Shit."
"Ick!"
"Dad!"
"SIT!"
"Fu--"
Bart clapped a hand over Ick's mouth and glared at her. Ick opened her eyes wide in innocence and Bat started trying to wiggle out of her arms, flinging himself backwards until he was nearly hanging upside down. He giggled and chanted, "Dad-dad damn sit! Dad-dad damn sit!"
Bart looked down at Bat and heard Cissie's car pull into the driveway. "This is not good."
"You're gonna be in trouble, Dad."
"Me? It's not my fault!"
"It's not mine!"
Downstairs, a door opened. "Dad!" Jenni called. "We're home!"
Bart shoved a hand through his hair. "Crap."
"Cwap!"
"Way to go, Dad."
Bart shot her a stern look and knelt down to look Bat in the eyes. "Bat, those are bad words. You're not supposed to say them, because it will make Mom sad."
"What will make Mom sad?" a voice asked from the doorway.
"Busted," Ick whispered. Bart turned to give Cissie his most innocent smile. She waved a hand, shaking her head.
"I don't think I want to know," she said, entering the room and reaching for Bat. "I certainly hope I wasn't hearing someone try emotional blackmail on the baby."
"Dad-dad!" Bat said happily, tugging on Cissie's necklace. He pointed to Bart. "Dad-dad!"
Cissie stared at him and her face broke into a huge grin. "That's right, baby! Bart, did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Bart said, trying to sound excited. He eyed Bat warily. "He just started."
Cissie kissed Bat's cheek, hugging him. "You're so smart, sweetheart."
"Of course he is! I'm going to go make dinner, okay? Okay!"
"Bart!" Cissie caught his arm before he could dash off. "He just said his first word! He said Dad! Why aren't you more excited?"
"I'm very excited! It's very exciting! He--"
"Cwap!"
Bart slapped his hand to his forehead. Ick scooted her chair back several inches. Cissie blinked at the baby. "Did he just say..."
"Cwap," Bat informed her solemnly, patting her cheek. "Dad-dad damn! Sit!"
"It's not my fault," Ick said quickly.
Bat continued sing-songing cheerfully. "Dad-dad-damn-cwap!"
Cissie held Bat out. As soon as Bart took him, she turned to leave. "Fix it. I'm going to call Carol and Ollie."
"Uh, why? I don't think they did this."
Cissie gave Bart an impatient look. "I don't think they did it."
Ick and Bart looked at one another. "Steve."
"Steeeeeeee!"
Bart looked at his son. "Steve is in trouble.
"...Cwap?"
Crap indeed.
The King-Jones-Allen home could hardly be described as "quiet," especially since Bat had started talking. Though "talking" was a loose term. Mainly he babbled. And babbled. And babbled some more. Cissie said that at least they always knew where he was, and that if it was ever quiet, they would know something was wrong. Bart pointed out that Ick had taught them to be scared when things got quiet a long time ago, and Cissie had to concede the point. But Bat's babbling still served as an excellent homing beacon.
One afternoon, Cissie had taken the twins to a doctor's appointment, Ick was upstairs doing her homework and Bart was making dinner. Or channel surfing before making dinner. Bat sat in his playpen, happily chattering and burbling away at his toys. Bart was splitting his attention between the television, Bat and listening for noises from Ick upstairs--if he didn't hear anything for another minute, he was going to go see what she was doing--so he didn't immediately notice when Bat's babbling started sounding like words.
He sat up and looked over at his youngest son, who was standing up in the playpen and looking back at him. "Dadadadadadad-dad-dad!"
"Dad?" Bart repeated, stunned.
"Dad-dad!" Bat chirped cheerfully.
He hadn't finished the second syllable before Bart was scooping him out of the playpen. "You said Dad!"
"Dad-dad," Bat replied solemnly, patting Bart's cheek and pulling on his ear.
Bart grinned and spun around, looking for someone to celebrate with. It figured that Cissie wasn't home. When was she getting home? Bart glanced at a clock, made a face and ran upstairs with Bat to Ick's room. "Ick! Bat's talking!"
His daughter turned to look at him, clearly skeptical. "He's always talking, Dad."
"No, with real words! He said Dad!"
"Dad-dad!" Bat cried, happily yanking on Bart's hair. "Dad-dad-dad-dad-damn!"
Bart froze. Ick's eyes opened wide. Bat smacked Bart between the eyes.
"Uh. Did he just say what I think he just said?"
"No," Bart said emphatically. "He said... Hoover Dam! Without the Hoover."
"Damn-damn-bam!"
Bart gave a relieved exhale. "Oh. He's just babbling."
Ick raised an eyebrow at him and reached out to take Bat when he leaned toward her, arms outstretched. "I don't know, Dad. Do you think Mom will buy that?"
Bart opened his mouth to answer, and Bat cried out, "Damn Dad! Dad damn! Dad-dad-dad-dad-damn-damn-damn-it!"
Bart felt his mouth drop open. Ick muttered, "Shit."
"Ick!"
"Dad!"
"SIT!"
"Fu--"
Bart clapped a hand over Ick's mouth and glared at her. Ick opened her eyes wide in innocence and Bat started trying to wiggle out of her arms, flinging himself backwards until he was nearly hanging upside down. He giggled and chanted, "Dad-dad damn sit! Dad-dad damn sit!"
Bart looked down at Bat and heard Cissie's car pull into the driveway. "This is not good."
"You're gonna be in trouble, Dad."
"Me? It's not my fault!"
"It's not mine!"
Downstairs, a door opened. "Dad!" Jenni called. "We're home!"
Bart shoved a hand through his hair. "Crap."
"Cwap!"
"Way to go, Dad."
Bart shot her a stern look and knelt down to look Bat in the eyes. "Bat, those are bad words. You're not supposed to say them, because it will make Mom sad."
"What will make Mom sad?" a voice asked from the doorway.
"Busted," Ick whispered. Bart turned to give Cissie his most innocent smile. She waved a hand, shaking her head.
"I don't think I want to know," she said, entering the room and reaching for Bat. "I certainly hope I wasn't hearing someone try emotional blackmail on the baby."
"Dad-dad!" Bat said happily, tugging on Cissie's necklace. He pointed to Bart. "Dad-dad!"
Cissie stared at him and her face broke into a huge grin. "That's right, baby! Bart, did you hear that?"
"Yeah," Bart said, trying to sound excited. He eyed Bat warily. "He just started."
Cissie kissed Bat's cheek, hugging him. "You're so smart, sweetheart."
"Of course he is! I'm going to go make dinner, okay? Okay!"
"Bart!" Cissie caught his arm before he could dash off. "He just said his first word! He said Dad! Why aren't you more excited?"
"I'm very excited! It's very exciting! He--"
"Cwap!"
Bart slapped his hand to his forehead. Ick scooted her chair back several inches. Cissie blinked at the baby. "Did he just say..."
"Cwap," Bat informed her solemnly, patting her cheek. "Dad-dad damn! Sit!"
"It's not my fault," Ick said quickly.
Bat continued sing-songing cheerfully. "Dad-dad-damn-cwap!"
Cissie held Bat out. As soon as Bart took him, she turned to leave. "Fix it. I'm going to call Carol and Ollie."
"Uh, why? I don't think they did this."
Cissie gave Bart an impatient look. "I don't think they did it."
Ick and Bart looked at one another. "Steve."
"Steeeeeeee!"
Bart looked at his son. "Steve is in trouble.
"...Cwap?"
Crap indeed.