Fic: Six Months In
Title: Six Months In
Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
Genre: Fluffy!
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Author's note: Yes. Yes I have been writing almost all day. Thanks for all the feedback! I love you guys!
Summary: We like you, too. Even if the only word to leave your mouth has been “moo.”
Under the cut
Dear Sally,
Welcome to half a year. That’s right. Today you are six months old, and you love your feet.
No, really. You sit about and play with your feet like they’re the most amazing things in the universe.
Typical. I take you to planet after planet, in every different time imaginable, and you’re more interested in your feet. Not only that, but you’ve turned into a complete narcissist. You look in the mirror constantly, trying to poke your nose and you smack it sometimes which isn’t very nice, so it’s a good thing the mirror isn’t sentient.
You’ve also taken to curling up on the floor of the console and napping there. That, I took a picture of, because really, I’m a bit chuffed you’ve taken to the TARDIS like that. She likes you very much, you know. She reckons you’re a bit brilliant. But you would be, being my offspring and all. Mummy wasn’t too happy about my letting you sleep on the grating so you’ve got a blanket set up, right under the jump seat.
Your mum’s been playing peek-a-boo with you, which, I honestly don’t understand, but you seem to enjoy it immensely. You’re all smiles when she moves her hands away and shows you her face. Can’t argue with that. Simple pleasures for simple, tiny minds I suppose. No offense! You’re six months old! You’ve got a long way to go in the brain department. You’ll get there. Don’t worry.
And you’ve been crawling! Crawl all over the place, you do. And that’s not supposed to happen yet, so says every human book on infants in the 21st century I’ve ever read. You also wiggle! A lot! It’s entertaining.
In other news, mum and I took a couple of hours to ourselves yesterday, leaving you with Uncle Jack.
This did not go over well with you.
While you love and adore your Uncle Jack to the point that I sometimes worry he might get an even bigger ego, you didn’t want us to leave. I suppose six whole months with the same two people around does that, especially when you’re tiny, and can’t walk, talk or go to the loo on your own.
Or maybe you just like us that much.
That’s actually a bit comforting. We like you, too. Even if the only word to leave your mouth has been “moo.”
And honestly, Onomatopoeia doesn’t count as a first word. You can do better than that.
On another completely different note, you’ve been teething. It’s been hell. I don’t want to talk about it.
Yes, I still like you.
Your Dad,
The Doctor
Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
Genre: Fluffy!
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Author's note: Yes. Yes I have been writing almost all day. Thanks for all the feedback! I love you guys!
Summary: We like you, too. Even if the only word to leave your mouth has been “moo.”
Under the cut
Dear Sally,
Welcome to half a year. That’s right. Today you are six months old, and you love your feet.
No, really. You sit about and play with your feet like they’re the most amazing things in the universe.
Typical. I take you to planet after planet, in every different time imaginable, and you’re more interested in your feet. Not only that, but you’ve turned into a complete narcissist. You look in the mirror constantly, trying to poke your nose and you smack it sometimes which isn’t very nice, so it’s a good thing the mirror isn’t sentient.
You’ve also taken to curling up on the floor of the console and napping there. That, I took a picture of, because really, I’m a bit chuffed you’ve taken to the TARDIS like that. She likes you very much, you know. She reckons you’re a bit brilliant. But you would be, being my offspring and all. Mummy wasn’t too happy about my letting you sleep on the grating so you’ve got a blanket set up, right under the jump seat.
Your mum’s been playing peek-a-boo with you, which, I honestly don’t understand, but you seem to enjoy it immensely. You’re all smiles when she moves her hands away and shows you her face. Can’t argue with that. Simple pleasures for simple, tiny minds I suppose. No offense! You’re six months old! You’ve got a long way to go in the brain department. You’ll get there. Don’t worry.
And you’ve been crawling! Crawl all over the place, you do. And that’s not supposed to happen yet, so says every human book on infants in the 21st century I’ve ever read. You also wiggle! A lot! It’s entertaining.
In other news, mum and I took a couple of hours to ourselves yesterday, leaving you with Uncle Jack.
This did not go over well with you.
While you love and adore your Uncle Jack to the point that I sometimes worry he might get an even bigger ego, you didn’t want us to leave. I suppose six whole months with the same two people around does that, especially when you’re tiny, and can’t walk, talk or go to the loo on your own.
Or maybe you just like us that much.
That’s actually a bit comforting. We like you, too. Even if the only word to leave your mouth has been “moo.”
And honestly, Onomatopoeia doesn’t count as a first word. You can do better than that.
On another completely different note, you’ve been teething. It’s been hell. I don’t want to talk about it.
Yes, I still like you.
Your Dad,
The Doctor