fluff off the starboard bow!
Title: Not-Asleep Robbie and the Trek down the Hallway
Wordcount: 600
Sleepy, but couldn't fall asleep 'cause he was lonely and story-bear wasn't enough right now. Robbie was just past the step-step-step-flop stage, clad in Shannon's old pink footie pj's and the poorly-but-lovingly-made cap Jolene had knitted him during her week-long knitting obsession. There was white salt on the outside of the windows and his room was cold in the mornings. He'd recently learned the trick of unlatching the gate of his baby-bed, and was just sturdy enough to lower the rail quietly. Things that fell did something that woke the daddies up, and then they came all sleepy with the tired-wrinkles on their foreheads and picked him up (which was nice) and sometimes had bottle or snack (also nice), but he still didn't like the little tired-sad ripples on their foreheads. So he lowered the gate slowly-slowly and flopped onto his tummy, swung his legs out over the drop, and let himself slip off the bed, story-bear held tight in one hand.
The lights were all off but there was watery grey light everywhere, in through the window, and Robbie only had to jump twice to reach the twisty doorknob. He dropped onto his butt but the door was open and he climbed up easy. The hall was cold, square shadows on the walls from the picture-frames there. Paul-dad and Michael-dad were sleepin', Robbie could tell 'cause the door was open a crack and the light was off. If the door was shut they were talking and if the light was on late like this they were working, and both meant Robbie shouldn't go in unless something hurt or he was hungry or he'd gotten scared of the tree-shadows that moved on his wall. But the door was open a little ways and that meant he could go in if he wanted to.
The bed was a big white mountain, like ice cream dumped out of the box onto a plate for a party. Robbie carried story-bear over to it and put both hands on the top of the quilt. The bed was higher than the couch, but lower than his table-chair, and too high for him to clamber up onto, and dragging his little steps from the bathroom would do the thing that woke the daddies up, he'd tried that last time. The steps were a gift from uncle-Pete, he could climb them to reach the sink all by himself and wash his hands or brush his teeth, though he couldn't always get the water to turn all the way off and then had to go get an adult.
Robbie patted around on the quilt until he felt an elbow. He couldn't tell which daddy it belonged to, but he shook it until the quilt humped around and a big warm hand felt about until it landed on his head and scruffled his hair gently. Robbie took hold of the hand and pulled it round his waist and tried a little hop. It was too dark to sign but that got the message across and there was more shuffling and the familiar flowery smell of daddy's shampoo, and then Michael-dad was dragging Robbie onto the bed and tucking him under the quilt in his favourite spot, right in the middle. Robbie beamed and signed Good daddy!, though everyone but him had their eyes shut and the squinty sleepy look on. Even story-bear was asleep. Robbie nestled down and made sure to pat everyone very softly on the forehead before he fell asleep.
Wordcount: 600
Sleepy, but couldn't fall asleep 'cause he was lonely and story-bear wasn't enough right now. Robbie was just past the step-step-step-flop stage, clad in Shannon's old pink footie pj's and the poorly-but-lovingly-made cap Jolene had knitted him during her week-long knitting obsession. There was white salt on the outside of the windows and his room was cold in the mornings. He'd recently learned the trick of unlatching the gate of his baby-bed, and was just sturdy enough to lower the rail quietly. Things that fell did something that woke the daddies up, and then they came all sleepy with the tired-wrinkles on their foreheads and picked him up (which was nice) and sometimes had bottle or snack (also nice), but he still didn't like the little tired-sad ripples on their foreheads. So he lowered the gate slowly-slowly and flopped onto his tummy, swung his legs out over the drop, and let himself slip off the bed, story-bear held tight in one hand.
The lights were all off but there was watery grey light everywhere, in through the window, and Robbie only had to jump twice to reach the twisty doorknob. He dropped onto his butt but the door was open and he climbed up easy. The hall was cold, square shadows on the walls from the picture-frames there. Paul-dad and Michael-dad were sleepin', Robbie could tell 'cause the door was open a crack and the light was off. If the door was shut they were talking and if the light was on late like this they were working, and both meant Robbie shouldn't go in unless something hurt or he was hungry or he'd gotten scared of the tree-shadows that moved on his wall. But the door was open a little ways and that meant he could go in if he wanted to.
The bed was a big white mountain, like ice cream dumped out of the box onto a plate for a party. Robbie carried story-bear over to it and put both hands on the top of the quilt. The bed was higher than the couch, but lower than his table-chair, and too high for him to clamber up onto, and dragging his little steps from the bathroom would do the thing that woke the daddies up, he'd tried that last time. The steps were a gift from uncle-Pete, he could climb them to reach the sink all by himself and wash his hands or brush his teeth, though he couldn't always get the water to turn all the way off and then had to go get an adult.
Robbie patted around on the quilt until he felt an elbow. He couldn't tell which daddy it belonged to, but he shook it until the quilt humped around and a big warm hand felt about until it landed on his head and scruffled his hair gently. Robbie took hold of the hand and pulled it round his waist and tried a little hop. It was too dark to sign but that got the message across and there was more shuffling and the familiar flowery smell of daddy's shampoo, and then Michael-dad was dragging Robbie onto the bed and tucking him under the quilt in his favourite spot, right in the middle. Robbie beamed and signed Good daddy!, though everyone but him had their eyes shut and the squinty sleepy look on. Even story-bear was asleep. Robbie nestled down and made sure to pat everyone very softly on the forehead before he fell asleep.