Mary is out of the sling, getting a vocabulary lesson. "That's the grass. Grass is green. And those are trees. Yes, we've established that that's my nose. Could you let go, please? Thank you."
Dick returns, feeling vaguely like a pack mule as he sets the bag down and throws out a blanket for Mary. Kneeling, he reaches to take the baby from Babs for a little while and sets her down on the blanket.
Are you giving your mom a hard time again, kiddo? I guess someone doesn't want any... GOLDFISH!
He brandishes the brightly-colored packaging at her.
Mary's enthusiasm also makes her grandfather laugh. Jim busies himself trying to set up the playpen. It has some trick to it. He's sure of it. "You want this set up? Or should I leave it for later?"
He deposits the playpen on the grass next to the blanket. "Applesauce," he repeats with glee. Anything to catch the eye of his grandbaby. He places an arm around Barbara's shoulder. "You did good," he whispers.
Mary shrieks, drooling on her father's shirt as he brings her down. Then she reaches for the sunglasses.
Hey, I need those--
"Dadadada!"
She's insistent; despite him removing her hand from the bridge of his glasses, she goes right back to trying to pull them off. He tilts his head back out of reach, and that's when she pulls the frustrated Look.
He holds up the crackers again. Fortunately, she's young enough to be easily distracted. She looks up, beams, and makes a grabby motion with her hands.
"Gowfissss!"
You got it! C'mon.
He sets her down on the blanket, and sprinkles some of the crackers at her feet.
"Thanks, love." Arranging herself on the ground, Babs opens the cooler and starts unpacking. "Fried chicken ... cole slaw ... potato salad ... what are the plates doing in here? Oh, well." She hums happily as she searches for the napkins.
Jim Gordon has found a spot on the blanket next to his granddaughter. Surreptitiously he reaches for one of the many goldfish crackers now strewn before Mary.
She doesn't miss the attempt made on her food. "No anpaw!"
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Are you giving your mom a hard time again, kiddo? I guess someone doesn't want any... GOLDFISH!
He brandishes the brightly-colored packaging at her.
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"I think she wants them," chuckles Babs.
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I think they make those things a skill test, to be honest. Don't worry about it - we'll put her in it later when she gets tired.
Mary reaches out again for the crackers, bouncing up and down on her rump.
"Gowfissss!"
Dick grins deviously down at her.
You want these? Huh? Huh? Well guess what--
He then drops the package, sweeps her up in his hands and lifts her over his head, before bringing her close to plant a raspberry on her tiny stomach.
GOTCHA.
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Babs teases her husband, "Think you brought enough for both of you? Don't forget we've got applesauce for her, and the strained peaches."
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Hey, I need those--
"Dadadada!"
She's insistent; despite him removing her hand from the bridge of his glasses, she goes right back to trying to pull them off. He tilts his head back out of reach, and that's when she pulls the frustrated Look.
"DADADADADADA!"
The kid's got a temper.
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He holds up the crackers again. Fortunately, she's young enough to be easily distracted. She looks up, beams, and makes a grabby motion with her hands.
"Gowfissss!"
You got it! C'mon.
He sets her down on the blanket, and sprinkles some of the crackers at her feet.
Knock yourself out, kid.
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"Good girl!" applauds Babs. "Honey, could you help me get out of my chair now that Mary's settled?"
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Dick gets to his feet, leaning over to steal a kiss from his wife before gently lifting her into his arms in an obviously well-practised maneuver.
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She doesn't miss the attempt made on her food. "No anpaw!"
He leans back, laughing.
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