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[clumsy_auror]

When you're not terribly old, even the littlest things can get you down.

Take, for example, the whole talking thing. You've got lots of words down! You do! But the whole concept of the letter D seems to largely elude you, and you can tell it's really bumming Dad out. So you're working on it.

Slowly.

But even worse is the walking. You're

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[the_woodpecker]

Bernard shuffles into the dining room with a couple empty plates and a glass, heading into the kitchen. "...But I don't see why I should nose around the waitrats' business when they're just fine as they are--"

He breaks off, wary, and tiptoes to the kitchen door, leaning against the jamb to watch Anthony steady himself on the side of a chair with one hand.

[clumsy_auror]

"Well, then don't pay it any mind," she replies, oblivious and elbow-deep in sudsy water. "Gil's always kept a weather eye on the rats, there's no reason to think anything's amiss."

[the_woodpecker]

Bernard turns his head, sets the dishes on the nearby counter, then holds a finger up to his lips to tell Raph to shut the fuck up preemptively. Then he pads into the kitchen and pulls Nymphadora by the arm to show her their son almost walking.

Almost.

[clumsy_auror]

With a squeak, 'Dora clutches Bernard's arm and then falls silent.

Too silent, apparently, because the sudden quiet causes Anthony to look around, and when he spots his parents he falls to his bum with a hiccup.