[jp] William Blake quote
[Happy birthday, lollobrigida! Set in takea_stepback. huntersdaughter is used with permission and love and Hannah is an NPC. friggen_jerk is referenced without permission, but lots of love. Set in the future because the present sucks.]
“You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.”
The four most feared words in Hannah’s vocabulary were as follows: I made it myself.
It wasn’t that Sam wanted to discourage her creativity. He thought it was great that she had such a developing interest in art. It was nice and normal and if there was anything that Sam wanted for his child, it was nice and normal. It was just the fact that Hannah tried to take her artistic ability all over the walls, carpets, floors, occasionally the ceiling, her clothes, her parents clothes, anyone else who happens to be present, and on one interesting occasion that is never to be repeated, the back window of the Impala became a vibrant, multicolored rainbow. It took Sam hours to get it off.
As far as Hannah was concerned, the world was her canvas, whether the world wanted to be or not. Sam spent most of the time wishing that she wouldn’t, with a few very rare exceptions. This wasn’t one of them.
Her obsession of the week was glitter. Sam wasn’t sure why it was glitter or how she had managed to get her hands on so much of it. It was probably Dean’s way of getting back at him for the finger paint incident the last time he was babysitting, but that was neither here nor there. The point was, Sam had decided to take a quick, ten minute nap on the couch, but when he woke up two hours later, he was covered in glitter. Covered. Head-to-toe in all things sparkly.
It was almost as though a parade float had exploded all over him.
He jumped off the couch with a surprised yell, and watched as most of it went tumbling to the ground, all over his feet. The rest managed to stick, and he was covered in at least a fine coating of the stuff, but there were some raised areas that almost looked like they were words.
“What the-”
“DaddyDaddyDaddy you’re sparkly!” Hannah came barreling around the corner and right at him, full speed ahead. She was covered in a fair amount of glitter herself, but it was nothing in comparison. Sam managed to snap out of it enough to catch his daughter and haul her up into his arms as he usually did.
“Yes, I’m very sparkly,” he said, giving her a bit of a look. “Are you the one who made me sparkly?”
She beamed. “Me and Uncle Dean. He even said we should write your name on your shirt with glue so that all the glitter would stick.”
“Is that what that is?” he said as he tilted his head to look at it. “I’ll have to take it off and look at it later.”
“’Kay,” she said softly.
“Sam! Hannah!” Jo’s voice came from the front door, and neither of them could respond before she made her way around the corner to the living room and nearly dropped the bags in her hand. “Oh … my God.”
“Mommy! Me and Daddy look like fairies!”
Jo looked like she was about to die laughing. “Hannah, where on earth did you get that much glitter?”
“Two guesses,” Sam replied. “First one doesn’t count. How much glitter is in my hair exactly?” He could feel a lot of it. It was starting to itch. Jo shook her head with a grin before she reached over to take her daughter.
“You really don’t want to know. I’ll clean this one up and you go shower.”
Sam took a deep breath, shaking his hair out a bit before starting to head around Jo towards the bathroom. Jo stopped him before he could get too far, however, staring at the letters that had been glued onto his shirt in glitter.
“Hannah, sweetie-what did you write on Daddy’s shirt?”
“His name,” Hannah said simply.
“You wrote ‘Daddy’?”
“Yeah, Uncle Dean spelled it for me, and I added the glitter.”
Sam gave Jo a concerned look. “What?”
Jo grit her teeth slightly, before looking up at him. “Dean needs to learn how to spell.”
Sam blinked, before looking down, pulling the shirt away from his chest and reading the word that his brother had sprawled across his chest in glue. He figured it’d be something ridiculous, but he never thought he’d be glad that Hannah couldn’t read yet.
B-I-T-C-H.
His lips pursed together, before shaking his head. “I’ll chew him out after I get de-glittered.”
“That could take a while,” she sighed. “Sure you don’t want me to do it for you?”
“No, I can handle it,” Sam sighed. “I want to do this myself.”
“Alright,” she said with a smirk, before stopping him again and pushing up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m sorry you got hit by a glitter bomb.”
“Eww,” Hannah covered her eyes. “No kissing.”
Sam smirked. “Yes. Good. No kissing until you’re forty.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head, before finally heading for the shower. He was going to kill his brother later and be picking glitter out of his hair for weeks, but for right now, he was pretty sure that things could have been worse.
858 words
“You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.”
The four most feared words in Hannah’s vocabulary were as follows: I made it myself.
It wasn’t that Sam wanted to discourage her creativity. He thought it was great that she had such a developing interest in art. It was nice and normal and if there was anything that Sam wanted for his child, it was nice and normal. It was just the fact that Hannah tried to take her artistic ability all over the walls, carpets, floors, occasionally the ceiling, her clothes, her parents clothes, anyone else who happens to be present, and on one interesting occasion that is never to be repeated, the back window of the Impala became a vibrant, multicolored rainbow. It took Sam hours to get it off.
As far as Hannah was concerned, the world was her canvas, whether the world wanted to be or not. Sam spent most of the time wishing that she wouldn’t, with a few very rare exceptions. This wasn’t one of them.
Her obsession of the week was glitter. Sam wasn’t sure why it was glitter or how she had managed to get her hands on so much of it. It was probably Dean’s way of getting back at him for the finger paint incident the last time he was babysitting, but that was neither here nor there. The point was, Sam had decided to take a quick, ten minute nap on the couch, but when he woke up two hours later, he was covered in glitter. Covered. Head-to-toe in all things sparkly.
It was almost as though a parade float had exploded all over him.
He jumped off the couch with a surprised yell, and watched as most of it went tumbling to the ground, all over his feet. The rest managed to stick, and he was covered in at least a fine coating of the stuff, but there were some raised areas that almost looked like they were words.
“What the-”
“DaddyDaddyDaddy you’re sparkly!” Hannah came barreling around the corner and right at him, full speed ahead. She was covered in a fair amount of glitter herself, but it was nothing in comparison. Sam managed to snap out of it enough to catch his daughter and haul her up into his arms as he usually did.
“Yes, I’m very sparkly,” he said, giving her a bit of a look. “Are you the one who made me sparkly?”
She beamed. “Me and Uncle Dean. He even said we should write your name on your shirt with glue so that all the glitter would stick.”
“Is that what that is?” he said as he tilted his head to look at it. “I’ll have to take it off and look at it later.”
“’Kay,” she said softly.
“Sam! Hannah!” Jo’s voice came from the front door, and neither of them could respond before she made her way around the corner to the living room and nearly dropped the bags in her hand. “Oh … my God.”
“Mommy! Me and Daddy look like fairies!”
Jo looked like she was about to die laughing. “Hannah, where on earth did you get that much glitter?”
“Two guesses,” Sam replied. “First one doesn’t count. How much glitter is in my hair exactly?” He could feel a lot of it. It was starting to itch. Jo shook her head with a grin before she reached over to take her daughter.
“You really don’t want to know. I’ll clean this one up and you go shower.”
Sam took a deep breath, shaking his hair out a bit before starting to head around Jo towards the bathroom. Jo stopped him before he could get too far, however, staring at the letters that had been glued onto his shirt in glitter.
“Hannah, sweetie-what did you write on Daddy’s shirt?”
“His name,” Hannah said simply.
“You wrote ‘Daddy’?”
“Yeah, Uncle Dean spelled it for me, and I added the glitter.”
Sam gave Jo a concerned look. “What?”
Jo grit her teeth slightly, before looking up at him. “Dean needs to learn how to spell.”
Sam blinked, before looking down, pulling the shirt away from his chest and reading the word that his brother had sprawled across his chest in glue. He figured it’d be something ridiculous, but he never thought he’d be glad that Hannah couldn’t read yet.
B-I-T-C-H.
His lips pursed together, before shaking his head. “I’ll chew him out after I get de-glittered.”
“That could take a while,” she sighed. “Sure you don’t want me to do it for you?”
“No, I can handle it,” Sam sighed. “I want to do this myself.”
“Alright,” she said with a smirk, before stopping him again and pushing up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m sorry you got hit by a glitter bomb.”
“Eww,” Hannah covered her eyes. “No kissing.”
Sam smirked. “Yes. Good. No kissing until you’re forty.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head, before finally heading for the shower. He was going to kill his brother later and be picking glitter out of his hair for weeks, but for right now, he was pretty sure that things could have been worse.
858 words