OtC 54.4: Because...
OOC: Paintings are framed and sent to john_movinon and tm_northstar from Henry. At the bottom of John's painting, Sasha has written "The USA". At the bottom of Jean-Paul's painting, Sasha has written "Canada". Henry signed his initials himself on each, and Sasha included the date.
Sasha hates that Henry ever learned how to use the word 'why'. Peter says it's a part of growing up. From what she remembers, she was probably just as bad as Henry, if not worse, but that was different. Her father had the patience of a saint, and she does not. So when she tells Henry to go tell Peter he's ready for his bath after an hour of sponge painting, and he promptly asks 'why?', she throws out the weakest, easiest, arguably most hated response a kid can get.
"Because I told you to, Little Boy."
Henry shakes his head, reaching over to grab the blue paint from Sasha. The colors of the day are red, white, and blue. Nathan would be so proud if he wasn't currently faking it with the best of them in Washington. "Mommy, I'm busy!" he says, as if the fate of the free world hinges on whether or not he can complete his little work of art to his satisfaction. This is one of those power struggles she thought she wouldn't have to worry about for a while.
He points out to the first painting he finished, the red and white one hanging out on the patio to dry. "That one's done but this one didn't get done yet," he explains. "It's not blue enough, Mommy. Too red, like Canuhduh."
She has to laugh at that, seeing how it is her fault that he's so insistent about this. She told him to make a painting for John, and a painting for Jean-Paul. They used red and white for Jean Paul's, and red, white, and blue for John's. It seemed fitting. She just didn't expect with him to run with it when he wanted to avoid taking a bath.
"You think so?" She pretends to examine the painting, wanting him to think she's seriously considering more. "I think it looks pretty good, Henry. John will like it. It's from you, and he loves you." She's honest about that much, and she doesn't know if they'll be able to dry the painting if they layer it more than it is. She thinks it might get clumpy. "And it's really cool."
"S'not cool enough," Henry persists, dabbing on more blue. "See that? That'sa fish. Uncle John has fish. Sharks." He holds up a few paint-covered fingers to tell her how many. "Good sharks, you should see."
"I have seen," Sasha answers, nodding. "They are good sharks." But they were still sharks, and she has disliked those ever since she watched Ariel almost get eaten by one at the beginning of The Little Mermaid when she was six years old. She doesn't mind Henry around them because she knows the boys are careful with him. Besides, they were harmless the way that John had them set up. Henry thought they were cool, and she was glad he had enjoyed his time with them.
Jean-Paul's painting doesn't have sharks, because Jean-Paul's painting is Canadian and lacks the color blue.
"Now you're done, bath time" she says when he finally sets the blue paint sponge down, scooping Henry up and ignoring the paint he's transferring from his hands to her shirt. She doesn't care whether or not it washes off the way it's supposed to; she hates all of her maternity clothes. Apparently there's a portion of the fashion industry devoted to keeping the world's population in check by making unflattering pregnancy clothes. She's been finding her way around wearing the stereotypical billowy tops and pregnancy-stretch pants to work, but Peter is crazy enough to like seeing her in this crap at home.
"But I'm not dirdy," he says, putting his hand on her cheek, instantly spreading some of the blue paint on her face. "Can I have a snack?"
"After your bath," she sighs, walking him into the bedroom and dropping him onto Peter, who happens to be laying on the bed. "You can have a cookie." They have homemade sugar cookies that Mac always makes sure to keep them stocked up on. She'd rather compromise with Henry than risk hearing anymore 'why's.
"Can I have a cookie too?" Peter chimes in, sitting up with Henry and grinning on their way into the bathroom.
"No," Sasha and Henry answer in unison. At least they can agree on that much.
Sasha Hoffman
Original Character
715 words
Sasha hates that Henry ever learned how to use the word 'why'. Peter says it's a part of growing up. From what she remembers, she was probably just as bad as Henry, if not worse, but that was different. Her father had the patience of a saint, and she does not. So when she tells Henry to go tell Peter he's ready for his bath after an hour of sponge painting, and he promptly asks 'why?', she throws out the weakest, easiest, arguably most hated response a kid can get.
"Because I told you to, Little Boy."
Henry shakes his head, reaching over to grab the blue paint from Sasha. The colors of the day are red, white, and blue. Nathan would be so proud if he wasn't currently faking it with the best of them in Washington. "Mommy, I'm busy!" he says, as if the fate of the free world hinges on whether or not he can complete his little work of art to his satisfaction. This is one of those power struggles she thought she wouldn't have to worry about for a while.
He points out to the first painting he finished, the red and white one hanging out on the patio to dry. "That one's done but this one didn't get done yet," he explains. "It's not blue enough, Mommy. Too red, like Canuhduh."
She has to laugh at that, seeing how it is her fault that he's so insistent about this. She told him to make a painting for John, and a painting for Jean-Paul. They used red and white for Jean Paul's, and red, white, and blue for John's. It seemed fitting. She just didn't expect with him to run with it when he wanted to avoid taking a bath.
"You think so?" She pretends to examine the painting, wanting him to think she's seriously considering more. "I think it looks pretty good, Henry. John will like it. It's from you, and he loves you." She's honest about that much, and she doesn't know if they'll be able to dry the painting if they layer it more than it is. She thinks it might get clumpy. "And it's really cool."
"S'not cool enough," Henry persists, dabbing on more blue. "See that? That'sa fish. Uncle John has fish. Sharks." He holds up a few paint-covered fingers to tell her how many. "Good sharks, you should see."
"I have seen," Sasha answers, nodding. "They are good sharks." But they were still sharks, and she has disliked those ever since she watched Ariel almost get eaten by one at the beginning of The Little Mermaid when she was six years old. She doesn't mind Henry around them because she knows the boys are careful with him. Besides, they were harmless the way that John had them set up. Henry thought they were cool, and she was glad he had enjoyed his time with them.
Jean-Paul's painting doesn't have sharks, because Jean-Paul's painting is Canadian and lacks the color blue.
"Now you're done, bath time" she says when he finally sets the blue paint sponge down, scooping Henry up and ignoring the paint he's transferring from his hands to her shirt. She doesn't care whether or not it washes off the way it's supposed to; she hates all of her maternity clothes. Apparently there's a portion of the fashion industry devoted to keeping the world's population in check by making unflattering pregnancy clothes. She's been finding her way around wearing the stereotypical billowy tops and pregnancy-stretch pants to work, but Peter is crazy enough to like seeing her in this crap at home.
"But I'm not dirdy," he says, putting his hand on her cheek, instantly spreading some of the blue paint on her face. "Can I have a snack?"
"After your bath," she sighs, walking him into the bedroom and dropping him onto Peter, who happens to be laying on the bed. "You can have a cookie." They have homemade sugar cookies that Mac always makes sure to keep them stocked up on. She'd rather compromise with Henry than risk hearing anymore 'why's.
"Can I have a cookie too?" Peter chimes in, sitting up with Henry and grinning on their way into the bathroom.
"No," Sasha and Henry answer in unison. At least they can agree on that much.
Sasha Hoffman
Original Character
715 words